


To Pierce the Sky

by StokerFan



Category: Gargoyles - Fandom
Genre: Explicit Sex, F/M, Gargoyles, Romance, Sex, Unprotected Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2020-05-14 07:17:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 37
Words: 61,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19268428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StokerFan/pseuds/StokerFan
Summary: Among the humans living on an island called Manhattan, a man is scraping by the lowest of the low, while powerful people like Tony Dracon live the high life. But his life changes upon a chance encounter, leading to a transformation that will provide him new opportunities for power...and love.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summer, 1994**

Fred Sykes is not having a good night. 

“This is the last job you ever do for us!” yelled Tony Dracon, before shoving Fred backwards. 

“Wait, please, Mr. Dracon,” replies Fred. “It’s not my fault.”

“That’s what they all say.”

One of Dracon’s men, a huge, bespectacled black man in a short-sleeve shirt, pulls out a Colt Python revolver.  
Fred’s eyes widen. This is the end of his life.

This was the last job that he did for Dracon’s crew. 

The hammer of the colt is pulled back, and then strikes the primer of the .357 Magnum round. The primer sets off the gunpowder, and the bullet is ejected at high speed.

Fred jumps. 

The man with the glasses fires again, and Fred continues jumping, dodging the Magnum bullets. 

“Dance,” says the shooter as he fires the rounds from the Python. 

Dracon and his goons laugh. 

“C’mon,” says Dracon. “Let’s go. I haven’t had this good laugh in years!”

He and his goons turn around and head back into the building. Dracon then turns around.

“We’ll be watching you, Sykes,” he says.

Fred’s mouth widens. He used an alias when doing jobs for Dracon. 

How did he know who I really am? 

He walks around the streets of Manhattan. It is early evening, and the streets are still choc k-full of cars. He needs to blow off some steam. 

He arrives at his destination, a seedy bar on a seedy part of this island. He knows the staff there.

Maybe a few beers will make me feel better, he thinks. 

He walks into the bar. It is dark. There is the bar with its barstools, several woodfen circular tables with chars. The song “Dreamlover” by Mariah Carey plays on a jukebox. 

The bartender, a bald man with a huge moustache, stands behind the bar.

“What will it be, Sykes?” he asks.

“Get me a Coors original,” replies Fred. 

“Okay, pay up first.”

“What?’ askes Fred, confused.  
“Listen, Sykes, you ain’t good on credit, so we need ya to pay up front. You got a credit card or cash?”

“I should have some cash,” replies Fred, reaching into his pocket. He pulls out a dollar bill, with FEDERAL RESERVE NOTE printed on top. 

“A dollar ain’t gonna cut it, Sykes,” replies the bartender. “If ya don’t have cash, ya gotta leave- or you could be thrown out. “You know what’s that like, don’t ya Sykes?”  
“All right,” rep[lies Fred. 

He heads out the door into the evening air of Manhattan. He walks along the sidewalk, sulking. 

Someone taps his one the shoulder.

He is frightened. A mugger could very well be robbing him of his last dollar bill.

What if the mugger kills him for not having enough money?

He turns around and sees a man in a blue uniform. “How the night going, Sykes?” ask the man, an NYPD officer whose face Fred recognizes. “I got a piece of paper for you.”

The cop shows Fred a piece of paper, with the seal of the Supreme Court of New York County on it.

“It’s an arrest warrant with your name on it, Sykes. You are under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. You have the right to an attorney. If you can not afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you.”

Fred feels his wrists slapped with handcuffs- a feeling he is all too familiar with. The cop guides him to the back suit of a blue Chevrolet Caprice 9C1 used as a police car by the New York City Police Department. 

He feels a painful bump against his head.

“Oops,” says the cop. “It was an accident.”

“I’ll sue you for civil rights violations!” yells Fred. 

“Maybe you can think of yer lawsuit in between the ass poundings you’ll take at Rikers.”

The cops and his partner laugh. Seconds later, the police cars pulls from the curb, joining the stream of traffic in Manhattan. 

Fred Sykes seethes with rage while sitting in the back seat of the police car. 

He yet again is reminded how powerless he is. 

Ooooooooo

The next morning, Fred Sykes still seethes with rage, while in lockup in the 23rd NYPD precinct. 

He knows it would take a miracle for him not to spend the rest of 1994 in Rikers Island, a place that would further erode his soul, his humanity. 

But other people are much more optimistic.

Such as one woman starting her first day on the job in Manhattan. 

Dr. Scarlett Mallory presents her ID to the uniformed guard at the gate. The guard checks her ID against a list, and seconds Scarlett is allowed inside. She looks at the building where she will work, with a huge sign reading “GEN-U-TECH”. 

She enters and walks along the hallways. She recognizes the hallway from her visist here, wehen she was interviewed. She had been excited when she received the call that she was hired. 

This is her big break. 

She soon walks through one of the doors. Inside is a large room. The centerpiece is a desk. The desk has some beakers on top in addition to the telephone and personal desktop computer. The office is Spartan, with tiles on the ceiling and floors, and lit by fluorescent lamps overhead. 

She recognizes the man sitting behind the desk. Brown hair, an aristocratic demeanor. 

“Ah, Dr. Mallory,” says Dr. Anton Sevarius. “Welcome to your first day on the job here at Gen-U-Tech Systems.”

“Thank you, sir,” says Scarlett. 

A woman in a suit, with brown hair, stands inside the office with Dr. Sevarius. “Jane Lyman,” she says. “I work in HR for Gen-U-Tech headquarters.”

“You will need to sign some documentation, Dr. Mallory,” says Sevarius. 

“Of course.”

“Here it is,” replies Lyman. 

Scarlett signs some documentation. She recognizes the Form W-4, along with documents such as a non-disclosure agreement and confidentiality agreement. She recalled having to sign a bunch of documentation when she was interviewed here last week, including an application for a top secret security clearance.

“The Pentagon is a major client of ours,” Dr. Sevarius had said. 

“Before you start, Dr. Mallory, you need to watch some orientation videos,” says Lyman. 

The newly-hired scientist is escorted to another room with a Sony color television and a Sony video cassette recorder. The HR person inserts a VHS cassette. 

“Welcome to Gen-U-Tech systems,” says a recording of Jane Lyman. 

And so Dr. Scarlett Mallory listened to the videos. They covered a lot from basic company policy to payroll to safety to sexual harassment policy. 

Lyman then escorted Scarlett to another room, where a young man stood behind a Nikon camera standing on a tripod. He took the scientist’s picture, and then went to an Apple Macintosh Quadra sitting on a desk. Soon, an ID badge was printed.

Scarlett saw her picture and name on it, along with “GEN-U-TECH” printed on the front. On the back it read, **“Valid from 11/1/1993 to 10/31/1994. This badge is property of Gen-U-Tech Systems. If found, please call 212-555-0908, Extension 1995.”**

“I hoped you enjoyed those videos,” says Sevarius. “Let’s get working.”  
Scarlett is excited. Life now is much better than it was a decade ago.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fred isn down and out. He has a chance encounter that will divert the course of his life.

**Summer, 1994**

Once again in a gray jumpsuit, Fred Sykes walks with his tray full of food inside the cafeteria of the Rikers Island jail, which holds prisoners either awaiting trial or serving short term sentences in New York city. Rikers is operated by the New York City Police Department.

Fred needs no tour guide, like most of the inmates. How many times has he been here, again? He had, so far, avoided being sent up river to Sing Sing; he would not survive up there.

He notices two familiar faces. One is  a man with short hair black hair; the other is a man with brown hair and a moustache.

“Chaz, Lou?” asks Fred.

“Hiya, Fred,” says Chaz. “How long you in for?”

“A few months,” says Fred. “I can’t get out of here until January of next year at the earliest, maybe not until September.

“Welcome back to Rikers,” replies Lou.

This is a much friendlier welcome than that he received from the guards. The guards had insisted a full search, including a cavity search. He can still remember the mocking laughter, being called a louse and a wimp and a faggot.

“I’m hungry,” says Fred. He looks at his meal- mashed potatoes, green beans, and Salisbury steak.

“Hey everybody!” yelled a voice. “It’s the Diet Police.”

Fred looks and sees some more inmates- all of them built like tanks, with very mean-looking faces enhanced by tattoos.

“We need lots o’ protein for our big bodies,” says one of the men, so we’ll take your meat!”

“Or maybe we can give you a piece of our meat!” yells another inmate.

One of them just uses a fork to take the Salisbury steak off Fred’s plate.

Fred glares at the man, and in response to the glare, the man grabs Fred by his shirt.

“What are you going to do about it?” asks the big man, looking very closely at Fred.

Fred bows his head and sulks. The other inmate throws Fred to the floor of the cafeteria.

“You’ll do nothing.” The big man walks off and meets with his gang.

“You okay?” asks Lou.

Fred looks at his tray, minus the Salisbury steak. “I know, we just do what we can to survive. If only we…if only I….”

Fred Sykes always hated feeling small and weak.

Oooooooo

“We have eukaryotic DNA fusion,” says Dr. Scarlett Mallory.

An image is projected on a projected screen. Patterns of line segments show chromosomes. She is inside a lab, with all sorts of lab equipment like beakers and containers and DNA sequencers.

“Doc Sevarius is gonna be pleased,” says her partner.

Scarlett glances at the woman next to her. She has dark curly hair, a big nose, and eyeglasses. Like her, she wears a white lab coat. A Gen-U-Tech ID badge identifies her as Dr. Rachel Weinberg.

“We’d better write up the report,” says Rachel.

“Uh, Rachel,” says Scarlett, “we could…you know, eat lunch at the cafeteria.”

Half an hour later, the two women eat in the cafeteria. It looks utilitarian in nature, with circular tables and chairs surrounding them. Scarlett eats a Philly cheese steak sandwich.

“They sure treat us well here,” says Rachel.

“I heard the guy who owns this company; he’s buildin’ a castle on top of some skyscraper near Central Park,” replies Scarlett.

“I never asked this. Are you Jersey?”

“Jersey Shore,” answers Scarlett in a neutral tone. “Cherry Hill.”

“Wow, that is so awesome. As for me, well…basically, I’m a stereotypical Jewish American Princess from Williamsburg, Brooklyn, New York. That must of been so awesome, to grow up in the Jersey Shore.”

“A movie can be made out of it,” replies Scarlett, in that same neutral tone.

“Well, Scarlett, speaking of movies, how about you see one with me?”

“What movie?”

“ _Natural Born Killers_.”

“Okay.”

Ooooooooooo

Scarlett and Rachel walk out of the AMC movie theater in midtown Manhattan, with smiles on their faces. They are both dressed in T-shirts and jeans instead of the lab coats they wear at Gen-U-Tech Headquarters. Glancing around, there are plenty of other people enjoying this Friday summer night.

“I liked the part where Robert Downey Jr. is blown away by that guy from _Cheers_ ,” laughs Scarlett.

“I hope nobody who is gonna see the movie was hearing that,” says Rachel.

“What?”

“Just kidding. How about we grab us dinner and some drinks. Gen-U-Tech pays us well.”

And so they do, going to this bar and grill with plenty of smiling, happy people, great music, great food, and great drinks. Scarlett has herself some mozzarella sticks.

Meanwhile, in Rikers Island, Fred Sykes just lies down on the cot in his cell, staring at the concrete ceiling.

Ooooooooooo

 

**March 17, 1995**

“You’re free to go, Sykes,” says one of the guards.

Fred Sykes is too familiar with the drill. He is taken to the releasing center. With guards and administrator watching, he signs some papers. He dresses in street clothes.

He is finally free.

He then boards a bus. He looks out , seeing the buildings along the street.

It is St. Patrick’s Day, and many New Yorkers are celebrating, especially the Irish. Fred wishes he had some money to buy a beer, let alone a whole pitcher. He does not think too much of his time in jail, which involved mostly keeping his head down and avoiding the gang fights between the blacks and the Irish and the Puerto Ricans and the Yardies and the Russians and the Italians and the Salvadorans and the Ukrainians.

Basically, it is a grown-up version of juvie hall.

From personal experience, he knows that getting shivved hurts.

_But where do I go now?_

Chaz and Lou are still in Rikers. Where can he go for a meal, let alone a job? Most employers are skittish to hire him due to his record. And him asking Tony Dracon for another job would be nothing but a near-foolproof method of suicide.

Once again, Fred Sykes despises his weakness and his powerlessness.

 

Ooooooo

 

Later that afternoon, Dr. Scarlett Mallory is sitting at a wooden table with Dr. Rachel Weinberg. It is not long ago that they were briefed by Dr. Sevarius about an exciting new, top secret bio weapons project. From what Sevarius had told them, officials from the highest levels of the Pentagon were overseeing this.

Gen-U-Tech of course had facilities over the world. They had wondered if thery would be transferred away from New York.

Still, the prospect of working with bio weapons excites the two women.

But such thoughts are cast aside. They sit at an  Irish bar in Greenwich Village. So many people are wearing green. Many of the people drink green beer from glasses. Traditional irish music plays from the speakers. The bar inside has over fifty taps. Scarlett and Rachel share a pitcher of green beer. A plate of irish nachoes- french fries covered in salsa, bacon, scallions, sour cream, and guacamole- sit on the table.

“Not too many guys seem to be checking us out,” says Rachel, as Scarlett takes another spoonful of Shepherd’s Pie, a dish of broth, ground beef, gravy, and vegetables, topped with mashed potatoes.

“Maybe it’s what we’re wearing,” replies Scarlett. Some of the ladies in the bar wear short skirts and blouses showing cleavage; the two Gen-U-Tech geneticists merely wear green sweaters and blue jeans.

Scarlett looks at some of the ladies having fun. Memories of her teen years at the Jersey Shore surface…

Oooooooooo

**_1983_ **

_Scarlett walked along the hallway of the school and approached her locker. Almost instincitvely, she entered the combination and opened the stainless steel door. She saw her Biology texctbook, which she needed for he next class._

_She felt a tap on her shoulder. The girl turned around._

_That was Mary and her friends._

_“Oh hi there,” said Mary._

_“I just need to get to Biology class,” said Scarlett._

_“Oh, look, its’ Benny. Don’t you like Benny?”_

_Scarlett saw the boy, with blond hair and wearing a T-shirt with the school mascot on it. Her heart raced. She had fantasies of sitting with Benny in his Ford Mustang convertible, kissing._

_She had fantasies of him kissing her on her lips and breasts, parting her thighs, and entering her most intimate of places._

_“Hey, Benny!” yelled Mary._

_The boy turned his head._

_Mary lifted up Scarlett’s skirt, exposing her panties to everyone in the hall._

_“Here’s her goods!” yelled Mary as she and the other girls laughed._

_Scarlett ran down the hallway seconds later, crying loudly._

 

Oooooo

**March 29, 1995**

“This is a very dangerous plan,” says Dr. Anton Sevarius. “We should keep our test subjects in our Westchester County facility. We still test new bio-weapons there; we have existing, secure means of containment.”

The geneticist is meeting with David Xanatos in his office in Castle Wyvern, a medieval Scottish castle disassembled and rebuilt atop the Eyrie Building in Manhattan. He looks at the billionaire- an athletic man with brown hair and a brown beard. A huge window behind Xanatos shows the southern tip of Manhattan, including the twin towers of the World Trade Center.

“You have seen his file,” replies Xanatos.

“I have no doubt the gargoyles would chase after  what they think would be their own,” replies Dr. Sevarius. “But if the test subjects are kept here, one of them may go to the authorities here upon escape. And we both know that our partners in the national security establishment would just as soon throw us under the bus as they would to cover up for us. We are expendable to them.”

“I know that, Anton. But, this is a risk I must take. He’s the best for this.

“And if our partners try to throw us under the bus, we will make sure they get run over.”

“Very well, then. By the way, let me give you the latest updates on the Thailog project…”

 

Oooooo

**April 12, 1995**

Fred Sykes is cold and hungry

He is tired of sleeping outdoors.

He can not imagine how his life turned out like this, after twenty-seven years.

It did not seem fair to him!

Fred walks along the littered streets. He is dressed in the shabbiest of clothing. His clothes feel dirty due to not having money to wash them in a laundromat.

He had never been this low before.

He could not imagine sinking to these depths.

“It’s not fair!” he yells. “Why me! Why?”

But who will make his life fair? Who will provide relief?

His life is not fair, and there is no one he can tell who can make his life fair.

He wonders why other people live better lives than he does.

He wonders what they did to deserve these better lives.

Walking down the street, her notices a police car. He looks on the ground and a loose brick sits on the sidewalk.

He picks up the brick, and looks at the police car.

Breaking the windshield would be the most effective method of getting arrested. Due to his record, he will likely spend a significant time incarcerated.

But he does not care if the state sends him to Sing Sing instead of Rikers.

Even Sing Sing has to be better than this.

With all his might, he hurls the brick. It flies in a parabolic trajectory, striking the windshield dead on, shattering the glass, and starting an alarm.

The police would arrive in seconds, and Fred Sykes would once again be in custody.

Something grabs him, and pulls him into an alley.

“What the?” asks Fred.

“You look desperate.”

Fred looks at the man. Brown hair, perhaps in his forties, with this aristocratic demeanor.  He wears a trench coat and a hat on his head.

“Who are you?” asks Fred.

“You threw a brick at the police car. Why?”

Fred thinks of a response to the question. “i…I’m tired. Tired of sleeping outdoors, begging for food.”

He and the other man crouch as two uniformed police officers inspect the broken windshield of their car. Fred wonders if those two cops had ever arrested him.

“You want to be arrested?” asks the man.

“Uh…yeah.”

“I could give you a better life. I can tell your life is basically either living on the streets or in a jail cell.”

“Right,” answers Fred, not being able to credibly dispute what the man has said.

“You committed vandalism against New York’s finest. If you do not trust me, go to them. Confess your crime. Be brought to court in chains. Be locked up in jail with New York’s worst.

“Or you can come with me, and I can give you the life- a life where you have the power.”

Fred glances at the two cops, who themselves are looking around for any sign of the vandal.

He thinks about how unfair his life is.

How weak and powerless he had been.

Rage boils within him.

“I’ll give you a chance.”

Fred enters a van with him.

“Uh, what’s your name?” he asks.

“It’s not important now,” the man replies. “I can provide you with temporary shelter and some food. And a hot shower.”

Not long afterward, Fred Sykes is inside a shower in a gymnasium in a building somewhere in an industrial neighborhood. He had not had a hot shower, not since Rikers. He has trouble relaxing, due to the fact that he is used to having to watch his back while taking a shower.

Soon enough, his shower is finished. A guard escorts him to what is called the provisional sleeping quarters, and Fred soon sleeps on a bed, in a heated room.

It is much more comfortable than a cell in Rikers.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fred is injected with an experimental drug. What happens afterward?

**April 13, 1995**

The next morning, Fred sits inside the Gen-U-Tech cafeteria. There were many people here, all shabbily dressed. There was still a dirty odor from their clothes. Breakfast still has yet to be served.

Fred sees that man, the same man who recruited him, walk into the cafeteria. The man wears a white lab coat and trousers. He is flanked by two women in their twenties, one with curly, crimson red hair, the other with curly black hair.

“Welcome, ladies and gentlemen,” says the man in the lab coat. “I am Doctor Anton Sevarius, lead geneticist and director for Gen-U-Tech Systems. I apologize for not having served breakfast yet; I will go explain further.

“Let me tell you what you are to do,” says the doctor. “we want to test a new experimental drug. We will administer this drug to find out the effects. If any of you have a problem with that, feel free to leave.”

Two of the people in the room do just that. Fred does not even consider it. What is outside the Gen-U-Tech building is his life, a life that he does not like a life that did not give him what he felt he deserved.

“When do we start the tests?” asks Fred.

“All in due time,” replies Sevarius. “First, of course, you need to sign some paperwork. We then have to do some preliminary examinations. Only after that will we administer the experimental drug.”

“I guess we’d better earn our breakfast,” Fred says to a man sitting next to him.

The man does not reply.

“Giving me the silent treatment, eh?”

Minutes later, after signing some paperwork provided by some of the office clerks, Fred is inside an examination room.  He fiddles with a bracelet, which reads GEN-U-TECH. A young man records his weight and height.

The red-haired woman in a lab coat enters.

“I’ll conduct your examination,” says the woman. “What’s your name?”

“Fred.”

“My name is Scarlett.” The geneticist looks at Fred- an ordinary-looking man with brown hair. He has stubble on his chin. He wears faded jeans and a coat. Fred takes another look at the woman, and sees the ID badge identifying her as Scarlett Mallory.

Scarlett sticks something like a Popsicle stick into Fred’s mouth and she gazes into his throat.

“The nurse here needs to take a blood sample,” she says.

Fred removes his coat and sits down on a chair in the room. The nurse takes out a syringe and a rubber band, and wraps the band around Fred’s arm. Swabbing the inner elbow with isopropyl alcohol, he sticks a needle into Fred and draws some blood.

“I’ll be taking this to the blood lab,” says Scarlett.

“Will there be more?” asks Fred.

“Just the usual, blood pressure, X-rays, CAT scans, MRI. We will even test your cognitive abilities.”

“You really are being thorough.”

“That’s what we’re paid for. You know this is being done under contract with the Pentagon.”

“Really,” says Fred.

“Anyway, I gotta go.”

It was not until all the tests are done, including detailed X-rays of his hands and feet, that Fred finally got to sit down for a hot breakfast.

And what a breakfast it turns out to be!

Oooooooo

**April 14, 1995**

 The Chevrolet Suburban is a sport utility vehicle. The first model of the Suburban was manufactured in 1935. The more current models typically have four doors. Three 1991 Suburbans roll right through the vehicle gate of Gen-U-Tech headquarters, the 4L-80E automatic transmissions transmitting power from the engine. Above, clouds cover the sky. The doors open, and the soles of polished black shoes step onto the hard concrete.

These shoes belong to several people, all dressed professionally, including two in U.S. military uniforms.

“Welcome, gentlemen,” says David Xanatos, greeting his guests.

“Mr. Xanatos,” says Mr. Duval, who is the senior official among Xanatos’s guests.  His most notable feature is a cybernetic implant on the left side of his face. “I hope you have something interesting to show us.”

“Follow me.”

Duval and the others follow Xanatos through some hallways. They walk into a large room with tables and equipment and lab equipment like beakers and test tubes. A window reveals a tank of eels on the other side of the wall.

“Dr. Anton Sevarius,” says a man in a lab coat. “and I take it you represent the taxpayers?”

“Theoretically, yes,” replies Duval.

“Then let me begin,” says Sevarius, pressing a button on the wall. An image of a large, winged, bipedal, bimanual creature appears. “The goal here is to develop a process to turn  humans into a creature based on a gargoyle. I have decided to turn to gene splicing. The composite phenotypes will have the strength of a jungle cat, a bat’s ability to fly, and, of course, the intelligence of a human.”

“We can not have our test subjects lose their intelligence,” says Xanatos.  “This project is to create bio weapons that can think, not mindless beasts.”

“Of course,” says Duval.

“We have developed a mutagenic formula,” says Sevarius. “we are ready to conduct the first tests.”

“let us begin.”

Sevarius leads the guests to another room. The room is dimly lit. A window reveals a brightly-lit room on the other side, with some chairs. Several shabbily-dressed people enter.

“So you are going to administer the formula to them,” says a U.S. Army colonel in a green uniform, with ribbons pinned to his chest, including the Purple Heart, the Vietnam Service medal, the Armed Forces Expeditionary Medal, and the Southwest Asia Service Medal.

“Oh, not all of them, Colonel,”  answers the geneticists. “Placebos will be administered to a control group. Can’t have an experiment without control subjects, can we?”

“Whatever you say,” says the colonel.

“Now I had better prepare the formula and get there.”

 

Ooooooooooo

 

Fred lines up in a line with the other people. He feels nervous,. He is going to get some drug injected into his body.

How will he feel?

What if he dies from it?

Two people enter. Fred immediately notices that they are both cvlad headc-t-toe in these sealed suits, with this circular symbol that has three stylized Y’s extending from the circle. One of them is pushing a cart.

“We will administer the drug,” says Dr. Sevarius.

The people line up, and the other suited person injects them with a hypo spray, befire discarding it in another container. Fred is soon at the front of the line.

He can see that Scarlett is behind the face plat of the suit. He feels a punch in his arm, as the hypo sspray forces the serum through the pores of his skin.

“You’ll  feel a little bruise,” she says. “Next.”

Fred walks away, not feeling any different..for now.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What is happening to Fred? Will he have laser vision?

   Fred Sykes lies down on a cot. Soon after the injection, he was subject to another battery of tests- more blood draws, more X-rays, more CAT scans. At least Gen-U-Tech provided some recreational facilities like a movie room.

“Hi there,” says Dr. Scarlett Mallory, entering the small room. She takes out an electronic thermometer. “Got to take your temperature.” She inserts the device into Fred’s mouth, and then pulls it out after she gets a temperature reading. “One hundred point one,” she says.

“Maybe it’s the drug,” says Fred, wiping sweat from his brow. “Or maybe it’s all these tests you put me through.”

“Our staff will be busy through the weekend.”

“What is your position here?”

“Assistant researcher,” answers Scarlett. “We basically do the legwork while Dr. Sevarius does the big thinking, basically. That means I have to take care of you, guys. I guess you can call me a babysitter.”

“I guess you got to start on the bottom,” comments Fred.

“And what did you do before you came to us?”

“Did odd jobs here and there, got into trouble a couple of times. Sometimes I wondered when I would get my next meal.”

“We’ll be feeding you guys plenty here while we run tests. Tell you what, tomorrow for lunch this taco truck will come. I can get you a taco; it will be my treat.”

“Really?” asks Fred, his eyes widening.

“Really.”

Fred lies down on the cot and goes to sleep.

 

Oooooooo

Ricky’s Tacos is parked just outside the Gen-U-Tech building. Many of the employees line up to buy their lunch. The truck is a popular alternative to the cafeteria inside. A menu prionted on the side of the truck advertises various types of tacos.

“So this is one of our patients,” says Dr. Rachel Weinberg, wearing her white lab coat.

“I figured this was a good opportunity for me,” replies Fred, wearing a T-shirt, faded jeans, and sandals instead of the hospital gown.

“You feeling okay?” asks Scarlett.

“A little.”

“What do you want?”

“Steak tacos and a Coke.”

Soon enough, Fred gets his meal. He takes a bite out of the steak taco, which has tomatilla salsa and cilantro inside.

“This is the best,” I said. “Better than Taco Bell.”

“We’d better take it inside,” says Scarlett.

The three of them walk inside the building.

“I was wonderin’,” says Rachel. “How did you end up with us anyway?”

“basically, Dr. Sevarius pulled me into an alley just after I broke the windshield of a cop car. I said yes.”

“You are a bad boy,” says Scarlett, just as the three of them enter the cafeteria.

 

Ooooooooooo

Fred wakes up and walks through the dark halls of Gen-U-Tech headquarters. Most of the place is unlit, and much of it is closed off due to electronically locked doors. The day consisted mostly of him and the others waiting to be taken to the labs for more testing. The staff did provide video games in the lounge; he recalls playing _Mortal Kombat II._  

After finishing wirth the urinal in the men’s room, he walks to a sink to wash huis hand. He does not see anything out of the ordinary in his reflection.

Until he looks into his eyes. The irises constricted due to the bright light of the restroom.

His pupils are not round.

His pupils are slit, like a cat’s.

Oooooooooo

 

Inside a conference room at Gen-U-Tech Headquarters, Dr. Anton Sevarius looks at photographs as he meets with the staff researchers for this project. He takes a look at each photograph, a close of the irises and pupils of the eyes of the test subject. Some of them are round, others are slit.

“It should be fairly obvious,” says the geneticist. “External signs of mutation have started to appear.”

“In this case, the muscles of the iris have restructured,” says one of the staff researchers.

“It is important for us to say out loud what we already know,” says Sevarius. “I suppose we know what this means.”

“Another round of tests for our guests,” says Scarlett.

Oooooooo

 

Fred finally walks into the lounge. He feels a little exhausted from this new round of tests. He had noticed many of the doctors are people whom he has never seen before.

Scarlett walks in.

“Hi there,” she says. “Cool shades.”

“Yeah, they totally dilated my pupils so that they can look inside my eyes,” replies Fred, touching the disposable sunglasses he had been wearing. “My eyes are slit now. You can’t notice it ‘cause my pupils are dilated, but once they contract, they look like cat eyes.

Fred stands up. “I think I figured out what this drug is supposed to do. Maybe it’s supposed to give us super vision. I mean, I don’t notice seeing better or anything. Wait, maybe it’s X-Ray vision.” Fred squints, trying to see through the walls. He then removes his sunglasses, and then instinctively shuts his eyes, as his pupils are still dilated and the bright light is painful. “No X-Ray vision yet.”

“What would you try to see through if you had X-Ray vision?” asks the assistant geneticist.

“I don’t know,” replies Fred. He looks at Scarlett, clad in her white lab coat and long skirt. That outfit is definitely concealing something.

“How about a game of _Mortal Kombat_?” asks Scarlett.

Fred does not even answer; instead inserting the _Mortal Kombat II_ cartridge into the Super Nintendo Entertainment System. Soon, the two of them play the two player game, which is displayed on a thirty-six inch Sony color television.

“I remember the video games when I was growin’ up,” says Scarlett. “ _Space Invaders, Pole Position. Asteroids, Missile Command_. It looked so primitive compared to this.”

“Yeah,” replies Fred. “I did that whenever I could scrounge up enough change to go to the arcade. Anyway, are you sure it’s okay for you to play games with your patients?”

“Sevarius is very busy; he gave me the job of looking after you guys.”

“You know, I was wondering if this drug is supposed to give people laser vision or somethin’.”

“Laser vision?”

“You know, shoot lasers out of your eyes. Imagine the Marines heading into the battlefield, just killing people by lookin’ at them. I mean, that must be why those doctors wanted to look into my eyes.”

“We’ll find out.”

The word FATALITY appears on the screen.

“I win,” says Scarlett. She looks towards another man in a hospital gown and disposable shades, reading a book. “You wanna play?”

The man just shrugs.

“He doesn’t seem to like talking,” says Fred.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fred finds himself looking radically different. What other changes are in store for him?

**April 19, 1995**

  Not much had happened to Fred Sykes this day.

He and the others are aware of what happened.

The Alfred P. Murrah federal building in Oklahoma City had been destroyed in an explosion. Terrorism had been suspected. Many of the patients, as well as the Gen-U-Tech staff, spent much time watching the news reports on the televisions in the cafeteria and the lounge

It is a national day of mourning.

There are no majorly intrusive tests, just a quick check for weight, height, and blood pressure. Many of the staff members are still in shock over hearing about the events in Oklahoma City. Security at the headquarters had been tightened as a precaution.

Fred decides to take a hot shower in the gymnasium before going to eat dinner. He soon feels the hot water against his skin.

Looking down, he notices visible hairs on his chest and stomach. Visible hairs on the chests and bellies of men are common enough; Fred had caught a glimpse of men with hairy chests and bellies.

He did not have that good of a look, though. Even Fred Sykes had common sense enough to not stare at other men in the showers of Rikers Island.

What he did know that he had very little hair on his chest and belly. He feels the hairs with his right finger.

He is certain that this is a side effect of the drug that Gen-U-Tech had tested on him.

He steps out of the shower, drying himself and putting on his hospital gown, entering the main area of the gym, with all sorts of up-to-date exercise equipment. The place is mostly empty, except for one person.

Dr. Scarlett Mallory.

She still has the same curly crimson red hair and triangular nose. But instead of wearing the white lab coat and skirt, she wears a leotard that shows the shape of her body. Fred can see the outline of her breasts and hips.

He stares for a full minute.

Scarlett stops at the treadmill where she is running. She notices Fred.

“You like what you see?” she asks.

“Well, yeah,” he replies. “Don’t have X-Ray vision yet.”

“I decided to just get a workout before I head home.”

“Around where is that?”

“Greenwich. This little place, really. There’s this nice coffeeshop just downstairs from where I live.”

“I’ll just get dinner from the cafeteria.”

Fred leaves the gym. Scarlett gets off the treadmill, heading to the women’s locker room.

 

oooooo

**April 20, 1995**

Fred wakes up. Another day of sitting around until the doctors call him in for an exam.

Upon seeing his left arm, he takes a closer look.

His left arm is covered in brown fur! Her feels the fur with his right hand. He then feels his face and neck.

He runs to the restroom and checks himself in the mirror.

His whole body is covered in fur.

He sees another man standing at the neighboring sink. He is covered in orange fur. There are black tabby stripes, making the fur look like that of a tiger’s fur.

Fred’s heart races. This is worse than merely having slit pupils.

The door to the men’s room opens, and a man wearing shades, a white shirt, and white trousers stands there. Fred recognizes him as one of the security guards.

“It seems you’re wanted for more tests,” says the man. “Time to earn your keep.”

Ooooooooo

**April 21, 1995**

“As you can see here, there are growths in the back and at the extremities of the fingers and toes,” says Dr. Anton Sevarius. “This is where we predict new structures will grow and emerge.”

“Or it could be a form of cancer,” replies Owen Burnett, sitting inside the conference room with Sevarius and the other researchers inside Gen-U-Tech headquarters. “It would be a major setback.”

“In science, we must deal with setbacks.

Owen looks at the pictures, seeing the red dots within the fingers and toes of the test subjects as well as two red  ovals on the back, near the shoulder blades.

“if this turns out to be a method of causing cancer, we will be set back by at least six months.”

Oooooooooo

**April 24, 1995**

Fred Sykes had been bedridden for at least three days. An orderly brought him his meals. Sometimes Scarlett would come to see him. His body is still covered in fur. He had noticed that he can feel a swelling on his upper back whenever he sits down on a chair and leans back. He had been transported to the examination rooms ina  wheelchair whenever Scarlett or the other doctors need to take a look at him.

Fred wonders if he will die soon.

An orderly brings him a tray with his dinner. It is Salisbury steak, mashed potatoes, and a green salad.

Holding a plastic fork, he notices that the tips of his fingers are swollen. He touches his fingernail and notices that it is loose. He bites the nail and it tears off with little resistance. He does it again with his right middle finger.

He presses a button on the intercom.

“My fingernails are coming off,” he says.

Ooooooooooo

**April 28, 1995**

There had been more tests, more examinations. Fred has been wearing gloves on his hands, to protect his vulnerable fingers, ever since losing a couple of fingernails. But recently he had been feeling something.

He removes the glove. He then sees a claw emerge from the tip of his finger.

He then sees it retract.

He had felt it retract.

Minutes later, Dr. Scarlett Mallory personally examines the claws on Fred’s fingers.

“I can get you a scratching post,” she says.

“Scratching post?” asks Fred.

“You know, like a cat.”

“I think there are claws on my toes too.”

Fred extends a furry foot. He extends and retracts a claw from his big left toe.

Ooooo

**May 1, 1995**

Fred sits on an exam table. His furry torso is exposed for the doctors to see. Blood pressure and weight are recorded.

“We’ll definitely need a more thorough examination,” says Scarlett.

Fred’s eyes roll up. He can never get used to these thorough medical examinations. “What do you see?’

“Wings. Wings growing out of your back.”

“Excuse me.”

Fred leaves the exam room and heads to a nearby restroom. He looks at himself in the mirror.

He does not see the wings; they must be too small to be visible from the front.

His ears are pointed now, not round like they were.

And his face, he does not recognize his face. He had once  been able to recognize his face, even when he was first covered in fur. His face is more catlike.

He wonders what he is turning into.

Ooooooooo

**May 5, 1995**

David Xanatos enters his office, having just returned from a business trip to Los Angeles.

“I have an update from Dr. Sevarius,” says Owen, in his typical flat, monotone voice. “The test subjects’ metamorphosis is proceeding smoothly. They have developed wings and claws.”

“Are they able to fly?”

“Not yet, sir.”

“Mr. Duval will be pleased. And this serves my goals as well.”

Duval and his people are interested in creating bio weapons for use in warfare.

But Xanatos considers warfare to be such a waste.

His ultimate goal for this line of research is nothing other than immortality. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sevarius visits a facility in Bosnia. What is going on there?

**May 12, 1995**

This night is different.

Fred is out in the open air, far different from staying in the lab, being poked and prodded and having wires attached to him.

Wearing nothing but shorts, and yet not feeling cold, he runs down the sidewalk. He almost reaches the street and jumps.

His padded feet make contact with the concrete sidewalk on the other side.

“Wow,” he says.

In an unmarked van parked not far away, U.S. Navy Captain Nathan Silverblum watches a monitor screen.

“Impressive,” says the Navy SEAL, whose service ribbons pinned on his service khakis include the Vietnam Service medal, Navy Cross, Southwest Asia Service Medal, and Joint Service Commendation Medal. Above his ribbons was this badge consisting of an eagle holding a trident. “If only we had more like him.”

“Nothing like an evening field test,” says Dr. Anton Sevarius.

“The tiger one actually served in the Gulf,” says Colonel Crump. “Maybe he can work for us.”

The test subject runs down the streets. He never felt so free, especially after being bedridden for days at a time as his body continues to change.

Now he is literally able to leap across streets.

“Okay,” heard Fred. “Time to head back.”

Minutes later, an ambulance with the Gen-U-Tech logo appears.

_It’s either go back with them or try to ask Dracon for a job._

**May 14, 1995**

Today is Mother’s Day, and many people are out celebrating with the mothers. Celebrations often take the form of a morning in the park, or a nice brunch at a restaurant with hundreds of others.

 

But like so many others, Scarlett Mallory spends mother’s day morning at a cemetery. She wears a simple black dress instead of her white lab coat. Standing next to her is her father, who is wearing a suit.

They have brunch reserved at this restaurant in Cherry Hill, New Jersey, and their reservation time is in one hour. For now, they look at a gravestone.

Scarlett’s memories surface from eleven years ago.

Oooooo

**_May 11, 1984_ **

_Scalrett Mallory walked up to her locker and opened the door, exposing some textbooks and her trapper keeper. Chem lab is coming up._

_At lerast it would numb the pain a little._

_“What are you doing Mother’s Day?” she heard someone ask._

_Scarlett turned and saw Mary and the other girls, all dressed in the plaid skirt and white blouse like all the girls here in this exclusive school._

_“I..I don’t know,” replied Scarlett._

_“Oh, that’s right, you don’t have a mommy anymore,” said Mary._

_Feelings of grief and sadness began to surface._

_“Her mom has a new name,” said another girl. “Swiss cheese.”_

_The other girls laugh as Scarlett cries._

_“Bang! Bang!” said another girl._

_“Maybe if your mommy was a better cocksucking whore, she would have had enough money on her,” said mary._

_Scarlett ran off, ran from the school grounds. The schoolgirl kept running._

_She found a place._

_And kept crying, tars flowing down her cheek. More memories arise, of hearing about what happened to her mom._

_The teenage girl kept crying._

Ooooooooo

**August 8, 1995**

After more weeks of tests, the occasional run outside, and mostly laying around, occasionally watching movies on VHS or playing video games, Fred Sykes notices something new.

Or someone new.

A woman with light brown hair, clad in a hospital gown. The light brown fur on her body indicates that she is a test subject in the early stages of mutation. She must be the first female test subject, probably some filthy bag lady, someone who would not be missed.

Fred then recalls that there is no one to miss him.

Oooooooooo

 

**August 26, 1995**

 

The Land Rover rolls along the paved asphalt road. Dr. Anton Sevarius looks out at the forested countryside. It is hard to believe that this place had been a war zone as recently as a year ago. An uneasy peace exists between Bosnia, Croatia, and Serbia, after years of war brought by the collapse of Yugoslavia.

“Here we are,” says the man in the front passenger seat. The Land Rover approaches a walled compound. A wrought-iron gate opens up and the vehicle enters the grounds.

Soon the vehicle comers to a stop.

“Welcome back, Dr. Sevarius,” says the man as he steps out of the front passenger seat of the Land Rover.

The head of Gen-U-Tech steps out. He looks at the main building, with three stories, the walls painted white. Many people walk about. Workers unload suipplies from a huge, ten-ton truck. The air is warm, and Sevarius wears a short-sleeved shirt.

“I like what you’ve done with the place,” says Sevarius.

“We got it built within a month,” replies his host. “No need to wait months for permit, unlike building an apartment in Belgrade.”

Sevarius looks at his host, a man with short cropped brown hair, wearing some sort of security uniform. Fromm what he had heard and read about Serge Tanzic, his host had been a colonel in the Yugoslav army and fought in the civil war after Yugoslavia broke apart. Xanatos had done business with Tanzic before.

“Perhaps you wish to rest after your long flight from America,” says Tanzic.

“Oh no,” replies Sevarius. “If I can get working right away, I want to start right away.”

“I do hope you can have dinner with me. You should try my pljescavika. And you need to meet Goran; he is my right-hand.”

Sevarius enters the main building, greeted by a young man in a white lab coat.

“How are things  here in Bosnia?” asks Sevarius.

“Serge has been taking great care of us,” replies Dr. Schleissberg. “Great food, coffee, booze, movies on tape and laserdisc. It helps us pass the time until it’s time to return home.”

“Do we have all of the necessary equipment?”

“Sure,” answers the associate geneticist. “The labs are up and functioning; we can do an inventory of the chemicals. And of course, we have the samples, and the surrogates. Amazing that so many women are willing to be surrogates. But I guess if you lost everything because of war, the promise of a lot of money and relocation assistance is very tempting. Perhaps I should you show around.”

“Of course.” Sevarius had visited the site once before, while it was still under construction, accompanied by the Xanatos Enterprises Security Force. Much has changed. He is shown the various rooms, from the employee cafeteria to the administrative offices on the top floor to the supply rooms to the medical laboratories- the rooms which give this whole compound a meaning.

“They do have great food in the cafeteria,” says Dr. Schleissberg.

“I must get to work. Get me an inventory list.”

Soon, Sevarius is in the lab, a large room with several tables and so many types of equipment. He looks at the various genetic samples and the various chemicals.

He soon begins preparation of the first batch of the mutagenic formula that had been used on the first test subjects in New York. It takes a few hours for him to prepare the formula, and then to test it  on human cell samples.

 

Afterwards, satisfies with the quality of the formula, he does the next thing.

He takes out vials from a cold-storage container, kept cold by liquid nitrogen at about minus 320 degrees. After thawing the samples, he mixes the samples with the mutagenic formula. He then examines the DNA of the test samples. After that, he places the samples away in a cold-storage container.

Sevarius looks at his watch, synchronized for local time. It is late, the sky outside must be dark now.

He walks outside and sees Serge Tanzic.

“Working late, Dr. Sevarius,” says the former Yugoslav army colonel.

“Being a geneticist is more than a nine-to-five job,” says Sevarius.

“Perhaps you can have dinner with me and Goran. Goran is my right hand; he definitely must meet you.”

Ooooooo

**August 27, 1995**

Even though she is wearing a light blue hospital gown, Azra feels naked.

The room in here is white and sterile looking, much cleaner than that NATO refugee camp.

Srebrenica was too painful a memory. The gunfire.

She and her family being forced onto the bus by those troops.

That prison camp.

Her husband, murdered before her eyes.

The horrors she had to endure.

The threats against her children.

The loss of everything.

All of that had happened just last month.

And what that man said in the refugee   camp, the promise of a new life, in exchange for lending her very womb.

She thinks of her children, Braz and Mirasda.

Here, she had a comfortable life, with a roof over the heads of her and her children, clean water, three meals a day, even an allowance where she can order some things via a catalog.

And free medical care, with frequent checkups.

And now it is time.

Time to be a surrogate.

A young woman enters, speaking her native language. Her clothing implies that she is a nurse.

And she holds a plastic syringe. Azra does not need to be told what is inside the syringe.

Another nurse, a woman, enters the room to hold Azra’s hand.

“I’ll be here for you,” she says.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some unknown creatures attack the lab.

**September 8, 1995**

Fred had a brief moment of excitement.

He was chilling inside his room with the mute tigerman when the shutter opened, revealing a large laboratory with all sorts of equipment. He saw Dr. Sevarius in his white lab coat, together with a well-dressed bearded man and some goon. He briefly wondered if the bearded man was some Pentagon bureaucrat or whoever owned this place. The goon clearly had not been wearing a military uniform.

He could not hear what happened, but Sevarius pulled a gun, and then the goon smacked him down. The guy with the beard got into an argument with Sevarius, presumably for pointing a gun at them.

Fred wishes he could hear what they were saying. Sevarius leaves the room. He notices the goon doubling over in pain, held by the bearded man, before the shutter is closed.

A few hours later, he had another examination, with Dr. Scarlett Mallory presiding. Fred drinks the chalky substance so that his organs would appear on an X-ray photograph. For a moment, the mutating man wishes it tasted like hard liquor.

“So Dr. Sevarius pulled out a gun, and this goon knocked him over,” says Fred.

“He still works here; otherwise I would have found out,” replies Mallory. “His mind’s too valuable to the boss and to our Pentagon overseers. If I did that, I’d be out of here in less than five minutes.”

Fred steps behind the X-ray machine. A white-coated technician presses a button.

“You know, you are talkative,” says the geneticist. “I mean, the tigerman is mute, and that lady we got is probably just some junkie zoned out half the time.”

“Slim picking for test subjects.”

“We can’t exactly have test subjects that anyone outside would look for.”

“Makes sense.”

“Well, I gotta to get to work. You know, we have some new tapes in the lounge.”

“Thanks.”

Scarlett walks away. Fred wonders if she would miss him.

Oooooooo

**September 9, 1995**

The routine is once again broken by an alarm. Fred and the tigerman out the larger glass window from his quarters.

It happens so fast. These creatures with wings, arms, and legs all broke into the lab on the other side of the window. They are followed by more goons, who were fully armored. After a gunfight, the winged creatures go  up a hole in the ceiling. One of them kicks Dr. Sevarius into a glass window. Water- or some liquid- pours out of the broken window and the geneticist starts convulsing. The bearded man walks up to the fallen doctor.

   The bearded man speaks with someone else. Fred notices that the someone else is in the process of mutating, already covered in fur. They both leave the lab.

Minutes later, the armored goons open the door to his quarters.

“You’re coming with us,” says the goon, holding a submachinegun.

 

oooooooooo

Fred and the tigerman had been sitting inside the ambulance for perhaps twenty minutes. Neither of the two mutates could see outside. Fred could feel the vehicle frequently stop and start.

He wonders where they are going. A research facility in eastern Long Island or upstate? A military base?

He hears the engine stop. The back door opens.

“Get out,” says the armored goon.

Fred and the tigerman step out into some sort of underground parking garage, with the slight smell of oil and internal combustion engine exhaust. The goon points to an elevator. The two mutates feel the elevator rise.

They must still be in the city, likely in the skyscraper, as they are going up, and not down to some hidden underground laboratory.

After maybe half a minute, the elevator doors open. Fred steps out and sees stone walls and stone ceilings and stone floors, like a castle.

Standing at the end of the hallway is a blond-haired man in a suit with a red necktie.

“Good evening, gentlemen,” says the bespectacled man. “My name is Owen Burnett; I work on behalf of David Xanatos.”

The name sounds familiar to Fred. “Where are we?” he asks.

“You are in Castle Wyvern, on top of the Eyrie Building in Manhattan. Mr. Xanatos has quarters prepared for you two.”

Owen leads the two mutates along the hallways. Fred looks through an open door. There is a large room with a bed, looking like a luxury hotel room.

“Do we get room service?” asks Fred.

“Of course,” replies Owen. “Mr. Xanatos has ordered that every need be attended to.”

Fred lay down on the bed. It is far more comfortable than  anywhere he had ever slept, even the Gen-U-Tech inpatient facilities.

In here is a room service menu and a telephone.

Not long afterward, a dark skinned man in a white collared shirt and a bowtie arrives with a cart with a covered tray on top.

“Rich people sure have weird guests,” he says.

But soon, Fred is eating steak and potatoes, and drinking sharp red wine.

Oooooooo

**September 10, 1995**

Fred walks out at the courtyard of Castle Wyvern. The courtyard has several lampposts. High stone walls surround the yard. He had, of course, heard about the castle being relocated from Scotland and rebuilt atop the Eyrie Building. He briefly wondered what it was like here a thousand years ago.

“Enjoying the morning air, Mr. Sykes?”

Fred turns around and sees that man, Owen Burnett. “It’s nice to be here. It sure beats Gen-U-Tech, it sure beats the streets, and it absolutely sure beats Rikers.”

“There is a fully stocked kitchen,” says Owen. “Or you can order room service. There is a gourmet restaurant about thirty floors below us and they serve breakfast every day.”

“How long do we get to stay?”

“We have not decided yet.”

He looks up at the cloudy sky.

He figures he might as well get a gourmet breakfast.

Oooooooo

Fred slept most of the day. It is rather boring; he sort of misses going into an examination room to be X-rayed or MRI’d or having blood drawn.  The tigerman spent most of the day in the castle library, reading.

Sometime in the morning, that junkie bag lady had been brought to the castle. Those winged creatures had taken her, but it seemed as if she escaped.

A fourth mutate joined them, with a feline head, bat wings attached to the shoulders, and dark brown fur.

“Never seen you in the lab before,” says Fred.

Sevarius shot me with a dart with the mutagenic formula.”

Fred then recalls that altercation with the geneticist. This new mutate must have been that goon who accompanied Xanatos!

“Wow,” says Fred. “Who would have thought that sort of thing could happen in a career in private security? You must really be pissed off at the guy.”

“He’s dead. Killed by the gargoyles.”

“Gargoyles? You mean those winged creatures that attacked the lab?”

“Yes.”

They and the other mutates step out into the courtyard. It is just past sunset now. The goon leads them up some stairs to a walkway along the outer wall.

“Where are ya going?” asks Fred.

“Until Xanatos finds a cure, we might as well learn to use these wings,” says the goon. “Follow my lead.”

The goon then jumps off the castle. Fred can only watch.

The goon’s wings opens up.

And he rises.

Fred is dumbfounded for a second.

_You’d better catch me if I fall._

He jumps off, spreading his wings open, feeling the wind. He soon finds himself going every which way.

“Hey,” says Fred. “He can keep his cure. I like this.”

_Did I just mean that?_

Off in the distance, the flying mutate sees some winged shapes. He wonders if they are eagles or falcons.

The winged shapes get closer.

They have two arms, two legs, and wings growing from the back.

They are the gargoyles the goon mentioned, the gargoyles that attacked Gen-U-  
Tech. The goon attacks one of them.

There is a fight.

Fred tries to find a way out. Fights had never ended well for him, whether at the schoolyard or at Rikers.

He sees one of the gargoyles go after the junkie.

They would soon come after him.

He swoops towards this olive-green gargoyle and smashes right into it. He looks to his right and the mute tigerman is fighting this huge green one.

The battle ended up back in the castle courtyard. Fred flies upward.

He sees the junkie on the highest tower, with a brick-red beaked gargoyle.

And she zaps him.

He looks down and sees the goon zapping this huge lavender gargoyle.

“Freeze!” he hears.

Fred looks and sees a raven-haired woman in a red jacket, pointing a pistol at the goon and the gargoyle. He wonders if Xanatos sent backup to assist them . He backs away. All his life, he knows he is not the brawling type.

“Call me Talon,” says the goon.

Fred hears something about crossing hearts and dying, and then the goon zapped the woman. He then flies off.

“Where are ya going?” he yells, running off to fly after him.

He flies for a minute or so, looking over to find if the gargoyles are giving chase.

They are not.

He looks below, seeing the streets and lights of Manhattan. He looks to the East River, seeing the Brooklyn and Manhattan bridges, and many other bridges. Moving lights mark the Long Island Expressway, also known as Interstate 495.

He flies around for the longest time. He feels free.

Before Fred knows it, he finds himself in the skies above Brooklyn. He looks down at the streets below.

He lands on a rooftop. He looks down on the  streets, seeing the early evening traffic.

He sees something familiar. It is an asphalt surface, with some basketball hoops.

Memories surface from fifteen years ago.

Oooooo

**_September 10, 1980_ **

_Fred Sykes fell onto the hard asphalt surface. He looks up at the tough-looking boy who had just shoved him._

_“What are you going to do about it, Freaky Freddy?” asked the bully._

_Fred curled up his right hand in a fist, wanting to smash his tormenter’s face in. But then he opens his hand. What chance could he have against these boys?_

_Fred could not answer._

_“He ain’t gonna do nothing,” said another boy. “Because Freaky Freddy’s a limp-wristed faggot!”_

_The other boys- and a few girls- laughed, pointing their fingers at him._

_“I heard Freaky Freddy’s going steady with his hand!” yelled another boy._

_“Oh look, we made Freaky Freddy cry!”_

_Fred Sykes ran away, crying, tears streaming down his cheeks._

_Why?_

_Why did these boys keep picking on him?_

_What did he ever do to them?_

_Why wasn’t anyone protecting him?_

_If only he could strike back at them, make them suffer, have power._

_But he was powerless._

_All Freaky Freddy could do was cry._

_Ooooooo_

“Freaky Freddy,” mutters Fred Sykes. He looks at his hands, covered in brown fur on the back side now.

That newly-mutated goon had called himself Talon. Fred doubts that Talon is the goon’s legal name.

This mutation had given him a new life.

He looks at that place, that schoolyard, where he experienced daily torment.

“I am Freaky Freddy no more!” he yells. “From now on, you can call me….call me….”

But Fred Sykes, who was once the boy called Freaky Freddy, can not think of a new name.

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mutates wonder what to do after fleeing Castle Wyvern. In the meantime, some very powerful people discuss the situation.

**September 11, 1995**

First opened in 1943, the Pentagon, located in Arlington, Virginia, near the banks of the Potomac River across from Washington, D.C., is the headquarters of the United States Department of Defense, which is in charge and has control of the U.S. military. Tens of thousands of people work here- both military and civilian.

The basic outlay of the Pentagon are five “rings”, labeled “A” through “E”, in a pentagonal shape, hence the name.  The “A” ring is the innermost ring, while the “E” ring is the outermost ring. Five corridors, numbered one through five, radiate from the center to the outer perimeter like spokes.

Authorized visitors are issued Visitor badges. One of these visitor badges is attached to a coat worn by a man called Peredur fab Ragnal. A woman in a Marine khaki uniform passes by him along a hallway in the “E” ring corridor. The Marine staff sergeant does not notice anything unusual about man- blond bair, a tan coat with the visitor badge, tan slacks.

Peredur continues on until he reaches his destination- the office labeled 3E494, near Corridor 4.

“Hello,” says a male voice.

Two people are in the room. One is a woman in her mid-twenties, wearing a white blouse and sitting behind the desk. The other is a man in a suit, one of the civilian employees of the Pentagon. His most striking feature is the upper left side of his head, which is a cybernetic implant.

“Come on in,” says Duval.

Peredur walks inside to the inner office. It is a large office, with a desk, steel filing cabinets, and a wall-mounted thirty-six inch color television, among other things.

Peredur reveals a pin with a pyramid and an eye on top. “One,” he says.

Duval reveals a similar pin. “Two.”

“This Pentagon place is much bigger than Carbonek,” says Peredur.

“I am sure you have been informed of the research done by Dr. Sevarius,” says Duval.

“What of it?”

“I’ll make this quick; I have a meeting with SecDef in one hour. See this video.”

Duval inserts a VHS tape into a Sony VHS video cassette recorder. The video plays on the television, showing winged furry creatures flying about.

“They were human,” says Duval. “Sevarius created a mutagenic formula to give them the strength of a jungle cat and a bat’s ability to fly, and you see the results.”

“Intriguing,” says Peredur. “The top five levels should be briefed on this development.”

“Quincy could not believe it even when I showed him this video. Here is something you should know, my friend.  Xanatos started this project by his own volition. One of our own had infiltrated his company years ago, and we swept in and offered Xanatos protection.”

“And these creatures? I would love to see them for myself.”

“They escaped,” says Duval. “Xanatos assures us that they will come back. After all, they believe he is the only one who can revert them to human form.”

“If only they- or Xanatos for that matter- knew what resources we have at our disposal. Any further thoughts, my friend?”

Duval rests his chin on his left hand. “Xanatos could prove useful to the Society. We may even induct him into our lowest ranks. Sevarius, however, is more important. Being able to fly and fire lightning bolts is only the surface of what could be done. Imagine if humans could be given arcane powers on par with the Third Race, powers that rival that of Oberon himself. If any mortal can accomplish that, it is Dr. Anton Sevarius.”

Oooooooooo

At that same day, Anton Sevarius is at the compound in Bosnia, having flown there immediately after the mutates left Castle Wyvern.

He reads reports in the living room of the guest house. Not the boring reports about supplies and inventory and personnel issues, but of some of the recent inseminations of the surrogates.

His work in this field continues.

ooooooooo

**September 12, 1995**

“Ya know, the castle has room service,” says Fred, munching on some Lay’s potato chips. “You said Xanatos will help us.”

“I can’t go back,” says the goon.

“And why are we here?” He looks around, seeing the open sky, and the roof upon which the four of them are standing. He looks below at the people- the humans- either walking on the sidewalk or riding in cars. “You’re not homeless. Why can’t we crash at your place? Or ya don’t like guests?”

“She’ll know I’m there,” answers the goon.

“Who?” asks Fred. “That lady who was pointing the gun at ya? Were you co-workers?”

“She’s my sister.”

Fred stays silent for a few seconds. “So you and her both worked for Xanatos.”

“She’s a cop.”

Fred’s mutated ears perked up. His experiences with the NYPD had not been exactly positive. 

He briefly recalls that night. The goon’s sister did not seem surprised at the existence of gargoyles. In fact, it had seemed as if she had been trying to protect them.

Did these gargoyles work with the police? Were they raiding the lab to capture Sevarius?

But then such a thing would have been the biggest news of the year. A lot of powerful people in the military industrial complex would have had to lawyer up like never before.

“A cop?” asks the junkie. “Why not go to her? Maybe she can arrange a public appearance, so we can tell everyone exactly…”

“NOOOO!!!” yells the goon. “We can’t go to her!”

Fred wonders exactly what kind of family dynamic the goon had with his sister.

“She’s just a low level cop,” says Fred. “There are really powerful people behind this, people who can squash Xanatos like a bug. What do ya think they’ll do to us to keep this from going public?”

Oooooooooooo

**September 21, 1995**

“I don’t believe it,” says Fred.

He longs down at one of his old hangouts from his old life. He recognizes two men- a big man with short-cropped black hair, wearing a short-sleeved shirt, and a brown-haired man with a moustache.

Lou and Chaz!

He had not seen them in months. Then again, he had not been exactly up to date on the release list of Rikers Island.

There has to be a way to meet them.

The mutate stalks the rooftops, hoping to track down his friends- the only friends that he has.

He soon tracks them to this building. Many homeless people  gather there. Fred finds out it is a mission. He had been to missions before, usually with some preacher preaching the Word of God in exchange for some bread and vegetable stew.

Even Rikers had more variety.

Half an hour later, he is at a nerby rooftop, with that goon Talon with him.

“Are you sure about this?” ask Talon.

“I just need to introduce myself gently,” replies Fred. “I know these guys.”

Fred covers huimself with a cloak and jumps down into an alley.

“Lou! Chaz!” he calls out.

Lou and Chaz look and see a hooded figure, with two arms and two legs, a cloak covering the body. The figure’s face is covered with a mask.”

“Who are you?” asks Lou.

“It’s me, Fred. Fred Sykes.”

“what happened?” asks Chaz.

“I took a job at this genetics lab, Gen-U-Tech.”

“Wait, Chaz,” says Lou. “Didn’t Al take a job to do a study at a lab? He was there for a while and then they let him go with a wad of cash.”

“Al was a control subject,” says Fred. “I was a test subject. What happened there changed me.”

“Changed you?” asks Chaz. “How?”

Fred takes a step back, and slowly removes the hood and mask.

Chaz and Lou’s mouth gape as they see the feline head.

“You must have gotten yourself messed up  bad,” says Lou. “You’re covering your face with this cat costume.”

“Really, Lou?” asks Fred.

“I think…I think that is his face,” says Chaz.

“and that is why Chaz is the smart one.” Fred looks up. “Talon!”

Talon jumps down, spreading his wings. Chaz and Lou step back.

“Uh, hi,” says Chaz.

Fred tells his story of what happened.

“I heard stories of them gargoyles,” says Lou. “They working with the cops now?”

“Yes,” says Talon. “they raided the lab, killed Sevarius just as he was about to cure me.”

“Aww, man, that’s terrible,” says Lou. “There’s got to be something we can do.”

“This is an opportunity for me,” says Fred. “For us. Why are we at the bottom of the shit heap, while men like Tony Dracon are living high?”

“Dracon’s got a lot of money, comes from an old family,” says Lou. “He probably pays off the right people.”

“There’s got to be a way,” says Chaz.

Oooooooo

**September 27, 1995**

It is time for that cop to get his comeuppance.

Fred sees the blue Chevrolet Caprice 9C1 parked on the street. He paitnetly waits for maybe an hour.

Afterwards, a young girl emerges from the back seat, followed by that cop. The cop adjust his trousers.

“Ya make him happy, I’m not as talkative,” he says to the girl. He then looks and sees a cloaked figure approaching him. His hand goes slowly towards his sidearm.

The hood is opened, revealing a cat-like face.

Suddenly, the cop feels a jolt. Soon he is on the ground, convulsing, as if he was tased. He tries to get up,. But his nerves were too shocked to allow him muscle control.

Not far away, Fred Sykes is at a pay phone.

“911,” says a voice on the other side.

“Someone just assaulted a cop,” says Fred. “He’s hurt real bad. Send someone quick!”

Minutes later, another blue Chevrolet Caprice 9C1 approaches, its lights flashing. New York City Police Officers Morgan and O’Malley step out.

“Who did this?” asks O’Malley.

They see a naked man sprawled on the hood, face down. On his thighs are arrows pointed to his buttocks, with the words INSERT HERE written. On his back is written FAGGOTS WELCOME.

“We’d better,” says Morgan, trying to suppress laughter, “make a report.”

“Call a paramedic,” says O’Malley.

The two cops burst laughing.

On a rooftop above the street, Fred Sykes smiles.

Then an idea occurs to him, to make another phone call the next morning.

  
oooooooo

**September 28, 1995**

Dr. Scarlett Mallory quits the CUSTOM application that had been running on the Apple Macintosh Quadra. She glances at the clock on the wall, reading ten o’clock- in the evening.

“I got to stop working these late nights,” the geneticist mutters. She glances at an empty ceramic mug once filled with coffee.

There was only so much a woman can do late at night. She steps outside to the bnrightly-lit hallways.

“Dr. Sevarius,” she says, seeing the head geneticist. “You’re still here even at this hour.”

“So many projects I have to look after,” Sevarius replies.

“I’m heading out.”

“Perhaps I shall head out too, Dr. Mallory.”

Just outside the Gen-U-Tech building, Fred Sykes watches. He can see Sevarius’s car all right. He briefly wonders if he should go tell Talon.

_I’ll keep this to myself for now._

Suddenly, from the south, there was this brief flash of light.

“What the hell was that?” asks the mutate. The light seemed to penetrate him, his very being, his very soul, as if he felt it from the inside.

He sees two figures emerge from the Gen-U-Tech building. They approach Sevarius’s car.

Fred swoops down, landing in front of them.

One of the figures is a red-skinned being with two arms and two legs. At the end of each arm are three fingers and a thumb, ending in bony talons. The left hand is holding a briefcase. Two wings are attached in the back and folded in front, like a cloak. The head has two curved horns emerging from the temple.

Fred Sykes is once again face-to-face with the gargoyle known as Anton Sevarius.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone's a gargoyle. What happened?

 “You,” says Dr. Anton Sevarius, looking at the cougar-eel-bat mutated gargoyle.

“I was told you were dead,” says Fred Sykes. “Those humans killed you.”

“There must have been some sort of misunderstanding, Mr. Sykes,” replies the geneticist.

“Fred?” asks the other gargoyle with Sevarius. “It’s been over two weeks.”

Fred recognizes the gargoyle. Ivory skin, curly crimson red hair, the finned ears, the short, stubby beak on her face, the red-polished talons on her three fingers and thumb, the single brow ridge on her forehead. “Oh, uh, hi, Scarlett. Good to see you.”

“Same to you.”

“I do want to talk to yer boss.” He faces the horned gargoyle. “You were the one who shot my buddy Talon with a dart with the mutagenic formula, turning him from an normal gargoyle into some furry freak. If her finds out yer alive, he’s gonna kill ya.And I might just go tell him.”

“Oh no you won’t,” says Sevarius, his wings extending outward, eyes glowing white.

“You can’t fly with those wings, Doctor. I can.”

“Point taken,” says the doctor. “But you could have killed me with an electrical blast. Why would you want to talk with me?”

“I really want to be on your good side, Doctor. You see, my life as a normal gargoyle wasn’t all that great; I kept rollin’ snake eyes. I see opportunities in my new form. I have no grudge against ya, or yer boss.”

“Glad you keep up a positive attitude, Sykes.”

“What do you want?” asks Dr. Scarlett Mallory.

“I’m tired of livin’ on rooftops. I want to lead the others to go back to Xanatos, but Talon, well, his sister’s a cop, and the humans are workin’ for the cops.”

“Maybe someone from Gen-U-Tech should meet with the others,” says Sevarius. “Not me, of  course; Talon would just throw me off the roof.”

“I can go,” says Scarlett. “They’ll trust a young female.”

Fred lifts the geneticist up. “Welcome to Sykes Airlines,” says the mutate. “Please fasten your seatbelts and put your trays in the upright position.”

He flaps his wings, slowly rising into the air. Once he is high enough, he extends his wings outwards and flies off, flapping every so often.

Scarlett looks down at the streets of Manhattan. She had once taken a helicopter tour through Manhattan, but never was this high exposed to the open air. She looks as Fred flies her near Times Square. She can see the billboards on One Times Square and the McDonald’s below.

The gargoyle notices she is descending; Fred is approaching some building, maybe seven stories high. Soon, Fred makes a landing. Scarlett steps off, her sandal-covered feet touching the concrete surface. The two of them descend a stairway into the top floor of the abandoned building.

“Who is that?” asks Talon, upon seeing the ivory-skinned gargoyle.

“She worked at the lab,” says the junkie known as Maggie.

“Dr. Scarlett Mallory, of Gen-U-Tech Systems,” says the geneticist.

“You worked on this project to turn us..into this?” asks Maggie, looking at her four-fingered hands.

“Maybe I can reverse the process.”

“Really? Make us gargoyle again?”

“He, uh, late Dr. Sevarius left a lot of notes. It may take some time, but I can develop a cure,” says Dr. Mallory. “To do that, we need to see Mr. Xanatos.”

“Then we’ll need to go to the castle,” says Talon.

“Well, sure, it has to be better than this dump,” says Scarlett, looking at the cracked walks and peeling paint and smelling the dust.

“We’ll go with you.”

And so the four mutates fly off towards Castle Wyvern at the top of the Eyrie Building, with Fred carrying Scarlett. After a few minutes, they land in the courtyard.

“Wow,” says Dr. Mallory. “I’ve never been here. I remember readin’ about this place, how it was taken from Scotland and built on this skyscraper. I never thought I’d be here myself.”

“Follow my lead,” says Talon. “Xanatos will know me.”

Talon leads the others through the stone hallways of the medieval castle. After a few turns and riding in an elevator, they reach a set of double doors.

Scarlett sees a large office. On the left is a wide-screen television. The window in the back offers a view of the southern tip of Mnahattan. There is also a desk in the back, with a chair facing towards the window.

The chair swivels, revealing a lavender-skinned gargoyle with pointed ears on sides of the head, brown hair on the scalp, and a brown goatee.

He is David Xanatos, one of the wealthiest, most influential gargoyles on the East Coast.

Xanatos makes eye contact with Talon. “so you have come back,” he says.

“Yes,” replies Talon. “We need your help.”

“You can make us gargoyle again, right?” asks Maggie.

“I still have the resources of Gen-U-Tech, although the loss of Dr. Anton Sevarius will set us back. It may take years.”

“Years?’ asks Maggie. “Like this?”

“We can wait,” replies Talon, putting his hand on Maggie’s shoulder.

“Wait a minute,” says Fred. “Where’s that nerd?”

“Nerd?” asks the billionaire industrial.

“That nerd with the glasses.” Fred clearly remembers the golden-haired bespectacled gargoyle.

“Owen,” replies Xanatos. “I’ll give him a call. He picks up a telephone and presses a speed dial button.

“This is Owen Burnett,” says a flat, monotone voice. “I am unable to answer the phone now. Please leave a message and I will get back…”

Xanatos hangs up the telephone; he figures he can speak with Owen in the morning.

His eyes slightly widen in confusion. Why had he been thinking he can speak with Owen in the morning, when he is supposed to be a stone statue?

“I’ll discuss this with Owen. In the meantime, your quarters are still here; I was expecting you all to come back sooner or later. This place, may not be the best place for you, and there is too many projects at Gen-U-Tech Headquarters. There is a facility in Westchester County, much larger than here or Gen-U-Tech Headquarters.”

“Good,” says Talon. “We’ll need some space.”  


“Uh, sir,” says Scarlett, “I can look after them.”

Xanatos looks at the stubby-beaked gargoyle. “And you are?”

“Dr. Scarlett Mallory,” she answers. “I work…ed for Dr. Sevarius on this project.”

“I will arrange your transfer to the Westchester County facility,” says Xanatos. “Even relocation, if you wish to live close to work.”

“Thank you, Mr. Xanatos,” says Talon.

The five of them turn around.

“Wait!” exclaims Xanatos. He pulls open a drawer. “You left this behind.”

The billionaire industrialist is looking at the mute tigerman.

Xanatos throws something at the tigerman, who catches it. The others take a glimpse.

It is a heart-shaped medal with a purple ribbon.

“You lost what the rest of us in this room take for granted, in service to our country,” says Xanatos. He briefly thinks of a certain ginger-haired gargoyle who had been a pilot with the United States Air Force when they first met, and flew helicopters during the Gulf War.  “I doubt I’ll measure up to that.”

Even Fred’s heart is moved by this gesture. The five of them leave the room.

David Xanatos operates the desktop computer, opening up his e-mail client.

He reads an e-mail from Dr. Sevarius, concerning the human cloning project known as Project Thailog.

Ooooooooo

Just outside, Scarlett prepares to leave.

“So you want to go home instead?” asks Fred.

“Sure,” replies Scarlett. “I’ll talk to Mr. Xanatos tomorrow about the arrangements.”

They both step onto the outer wall of  Castle Wyvern.

“Don’t drop her,” Maggie says to Fred.

Fred lifts up Scarlett and jumps down, spreading and flapping his wings. The two of them look down at the bright streets of Manhattan, seeing the cars move along. They glance towards the Hudson River and New Jersey.

Scarlett looks down in amazement. Everything down there looks like miniatures, from so far high. She always had wings, and yet never dreamed of being high in the air like this, outside of an airplane or a helicopter.

This moment just seems so magical.

“You know, I’ve had wings all my life,” says Fred, “and yet I was unable to fly until I was mutated. Why can’t gargoyles fly?”

“Our muscle structure’s insufficient to flap the wings hard enough to generate lift, given the way our bodies are built” replies Scarlett. “I’m guessing our evolutionary ancestors could fly, though. Our wings are useful in helping is jump far.”

“Yeah. I can guess why the military supports this project. Soldiers that can fly on their own wings.” He thinks back to that moment when that goon Talon led him and the others on their first flight.

_“Until Xanatos finds a cure, we might as well learn to use these wings,” said  the goon. “Follow my lead.”_

 

“Wait a minute,” says Fred. “The goon told us to learn how to use these wings to fly. If he, if we had wings all our lives, why did it occur to him to use these wings to fly?”

Mallory stays silent for a moment. “He must have known one of the purposes of the mutation was to enable gargoyles to actually fly.”

“But why off the castle, and not in a controlled environment? Somethin’s not addin’ up.”

“There it is.”

Fred circles around an apartment building.

“Second window, third floor.”

Fred lands on the fire escape on an apartment building. Scarlett looks inside through the window.

“Yup,” she says. “I live here.”

She opens the window and steps inside. Turning on the lights, she receives more visual verification that this is her bedroom.

She removes her sandals, her taloned feet sinking into the plush carpet.

Something feels wrong. She feels the carpet with her feet.

She screams.

“What is it?’ asks Fred.

“No stone fragments,” replies the geneticist. “There should be fragments of my stone skin from when I woke up this evening!”

“Gee, Scarlett, ya know, I’ve heard rumors of this invention called vacuum cleaners, which, ya know, sucks up dirt and grime and gargoyle skin fragments! Maybe you should use that high salary you get and buy one at the Home Depot! It works miracles!”

“I left my apartment soon after waking up to go to work. I didn’t have time to vacuum. I was at the lab for maybe ten hours…wait a minute, I left the lab at ten. I couldn’t have been there ten hours straight unless I turned to stone there, and I don’t remember going to stone sleep there. Something doesn’t add up.”

Fred pauses for a while. There had been a few things that were out of place this evening.

“I’ll leave the math to you science whizzes. I’m headin’ back to the castle.”

“Thanks for the flight,” says Scarlett.

“Yer welcome,” replies Fred. He jumps off the fire escape and rises into the air.

Just then, Scarlett sees another flash of light, and feels it too, as it penetrates her entire body, the core of her very soul.

She runs to the bathroom and looks at the mirror.

Her mouth opens in surprise at her reflection.

She then feels confusion.

She sees the human female face in the mirror, with the curly crimson red hair and triangular nose. The white lab coat still covers her torso. She holds up her right hand, seeing the red nail polish on the nails of her four fingers and thumb.

_This is supposed to be my face, right? I guess I am tired._

The assistant geneticist is soon asleep in her bed.

 

Ooooooo

**September 29, 1995**

“So what you are saying is that last night, I was a gargoyle?” asks David Xanatos.

Owen Burnett sits across the desk from his boss, the daytime view of southern Manhattan behind him. He had explained the events of last night. “Everyone human in Manhattan had been transformed into a gargoyle, including you, sir,” he answers. “When you were changed back, your memories were altered. The only ones who retained the memories were those who could see through the masquerade. That includes Demona, Goliath and his clan, as well as the detective Elisa Maza.”

“And the security cameras?”

“Altered as well. Any photographs taken would have been altered as well”

“So no one I spoke to as a gargoyle would remember seeing me as a gargoyle.”

“Unless they figured out you were supposed to be human, that is correct. I do wish I could have seen you as a gargoyle.”

“Of course. In any event, the mutates returned- while I was a gargoyle apparently. They are here and we can work with them.”

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mutates move to Westchester County. What is going on there?

**September 29, 1995**

Fred and the other mutates step out into this wide exposed area, surrounded by steel girders. On a flat surface is a black helicopter, with the word “XANATOS” stenciled along the tail. The door is open and they step in. The goon Talon sits in the pilot’s seat and starts flipping switches.

“I did not know you can fly a helicopter,” says Fred Sykes.

“Wait for me!” someone yells. Dr. Scarlett Mallory runs aboard the helicopter, wearing a blouse and a skirt. She sits down next to the female leonine mutate. Maggie Reed, she recalls from reading the files on the test subjects.

The engines roar to life.

“Here we go,” says Talon, and soon the helicopter is airborne.

Scarlett had read about the mutate calling himself Talon. She wondered why he was chosen, given his background. It seemed far too risky as compared to these others, especially as he did not even volunteer to be a test subject.

Of the people in this helicopter, only she and the mutate whose name is Fred Sykes know that Dr. Anton Sevarius is still alive.

The helicopter passes over the streets and buildings of Manhattan, then  crossing the Harlem river to fly over the Bronx, and then out to the suburbs of southern Westchester County. After maybe ten or minutes, the helicopter is flying asbove rural Westchester County.

“We should be less than a minute,” says Talon.

The others look as the ground gets closer and closer. They can see fields and trees and streams, a far different landscape from the concrete canyons in Manhattan.

Soon, the helicopter’s struts make contact with the concrete landing pad. Talon flips some switches and shuts off the engines of the helicopter.

A man in a suit, flanked by two guards, approach.

“Welcome to our facility here,” he says. “Tom Bates, Ops.

“Call me Talon.”

“We do have rooms for you; all of our guests are free to use all of the recreational and food facilities.”

Scarlett steps off the helicopter. “Dr. Scarlett Mallory,” she says.

“I was told to expect you.”

“I will need to brief the medical staff. I have the files here.”

Bates notices the geneticist holding a briefcase. “All right.”

Ooooooooo

Fred Sykes lies down on his bed. The bedroom is simple, with white plaster walls and a closet, a small desk, and a telephone. It is as the guest quarters in the castle, but all the amenities are here in this complex, including the common kitchen, the cafeteria, the lounge, the library.

The whole facility spans about forty acres, in the woods. Half an hour by helicopter to New York City, or up to two hours by car. On the surface is a helipad, the big house, and some detached support buildings.

What he had not seen, but had heard about, is a vast underground laboratory complex. He briefly wonders why the mutations were done at the headquarters instead of here.

Could it have had something to do with those gargoyle things? Luring them to the headquarters, capturing them?

He hears some knocks on the door.

“It’s me,” says Scarlett Mallory.

Fang opens the door, seeing the crimson-haired woman.

“You guys doing all right?”

“Yeah. I think I might actually like this place.”

“I’m basically been given a job as your babysitter.”

“So you’re stayin’ here with us.”

“I’ll be here a few days a week to check on you guys. I still have work to do in the City.”

“You know, I did have a strange dream last night.”

“What?”

“I saw Sevarius, and he looked like the Devil.”

“The Devil?”

“Yeah, with red skin and horns and a tail. You were there too.”

“Maybe I have a succubus,” says the geneticist.

“No, not that, whatever that is. You were more…like a gargoyle.”

“I see. Well, Sykes, I gotta go.”

“See ya later, Doc.”

Fred lays down. At least there is some respite.

He cannot stay here forever. He wants to do more, to assemble a crew, to take his rightful place in the world.

To just stay here and just eat and have medical exams is what Freaky Freddy would do.

He does not want to stay Freaky Freddy.

He did remember one thing.

He, and the other mutates, had been told that they could come and go as they please.

Oooooooooo

**October 10, 1995**

U.S. Navy Captain Nathan Silverblum walks inside the room with David Xanatos, escorted by security. The room has all sorts of exercise equipment, suich as weight machines, treadmills, and even a rack fuill of dumbbells. He figures many of the researchers and support staff exercised here.

He sees someone running on a treadmill. That someone is a winged bipedal figure, covered in black fur, with a head shaped like that of a panther.

The panther figure stops. “And you are?” he asks.

The Navy captain is silent for a few seconds, and introduces himself. “I’m from the Pentagon. This is one of the projects I have been assigned to oversee.”

“Navy, eh?” comments the panther man. He looks at the man who has accompanied Xanatos- late forties to early fifties, close-cropped brown hair, a prominent scar on the forehead. His dark blue coat has four one-inch stripes on each sleeve and colored ribbons pinned on the left side of the chest. Above the ribbons is this pin that looks like an eagle holding a trident.

“I have read your file; Mr. Xanatos was kind enough to provide it.”

“And you think you know me, merely because you read some report?”

“Oh no. I can not imagine how you first felt when you started  to change. I have seen many horrors in combat. I could not even imagine this.”

“So yer Popeye the Sailor Man,” Silverblum hears. He turns his head and sees another of these mutates, this time with brown fur and a slightly different head than the panther mutate.

“So what is long, hard, and full of seamen? A submarine.”

“I must be going,” says the Navy captain.

“Then let me guide you to the underground lab,” Xanatos says to Silverblum.

The two men leave the gymnasium and walk along the hallways of the big house. Soon rthey walk to a hallway manned by a blue-uniformed guard. Xanatos shows an ID.

“Mr. Xanatos,” says the guard, a man in his mid-twenties. “Good to see you, sir.”

Walking past the guard, the two men enter an elevator; its interior is very industria-looking, in shapr contrast to the house. Captain Silverblum hears the elevator move.

After a few seconds, the stainless steel doors open. Silverblum notices the sharp contrast. The underground lab has concrete corridors. A map is mounted on the wall to the left.

Several people in white lab coats walk up to greet the two visitors. One of them, a bespectacled bald man with sideburns, speaks to them.

“Welcome to my humble lab, gentlemen,” he says.

“Pleasure to see you, Dr. Phobos,” says Xanatos. “This is Captain Silverblum from the Pentagon.

The Navy captain shakes the scientist’s hand. “Hi,” says Silverblum.

“The Pentagon is interested in our bio weapons,” says Xanatos.

“Follow me,” replies Phobos. He leads the two men  through some concrete corrdiors. Silverblum has glimpses of lab equipment through some windows. They go down another elevator. A blue-uniformed guard acknowledges Phobos.

They soon walk into this long corridor. There are some white-coated scientists as well as workers in blue overalls. They all acknowlkedgesd their bosses and their bosses’ guests.

What Captain Silverblum notices are some pens with wrought iron gates. Each pen appeared to be maybe four square meters.

He sees a creature in each pen, creatures he could have never imagined, not even in his twenty plus years of military service.

Some of these creatures are quadrupedal, with no skin, all the muscles and bones being exposed. They walk around then pen making clicking sounds. There are other creatures- bipedal ones, with green skin and dome-shaped heads. Thei fingers and toes on their hands and feet had some wicked-looking claws at the end.

“I am impressed,” says Xanatos. “Anton was right to recommend that I bring you aboard.”

“Why thank you,” replies Dr. Phobos.

“I hope these creatures could do more than look ugly,” says Silverblum.

“That is why I scheduled a test,” says the geneticist.

And so Phobos leads them to another area. They over look a large room with obstacles. Phobos walks to a telephone mounted on the wall and picks up the handset.

“We are ready,” he says.

Silverblum looks through the window as a goat is led into the room. He can he the braying of the goat from a speaker.

Another door opens, and one of the bipedal clawed creatures enter.

The green monster jumps towards the goat, emitting a scream. With its powerful claws, it shreds the white goat, spraying blood and tissue everywhere.

Captain Silverblum looks in wonder. The SEAL had not seen such a sight in his twenty plus years of service in the United States Navy, not even as a young lieutenant hunting down Charlie in the jungles of Vietnam.

“The Pentagon will definitely want to have some samples,” says the captain.

“I am sure that can be arranged,” replies Xanatos. He looks at Phobos. “Keep up the good work.”

“I will,” answers Dr. Phobos.

“That was very interesting,” says Captain Silverblum, riding up the elevator with David Xanatos.

“I got engaged recently,” says the billionaire industrialist. “I am hoping for a wedding next month.”

“I know what that is like- along with paying alimony.”

“Captain Silverblum, if you choose to retire from the Navy, I am sure Xanatos Enterprises will have a place for you.”

The elevator doors open, revealing the hallway of the big house, with a different guard manning the entrance to the underground lab.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fred and Scarlett go to Manhattan for Halloween. Will they have a good time?

**October 31, 1995**

Fred Sykes could hardly believe it.

Not only is he walking on a street in Greenwich Village, Manhattan, New York, out in public, he is dressed as Charles Oakley of the New York Knicks, complete with the #34 jersey and shorts.

It had started yesterday, when Dr. Scarlett Mallory had been visiting, as she had frequently done for the past month to look after the mutates on Xanatos’s behalf. They were taking over lunch at the cafeteria.

_“And maybe we should go to back to New York and walk down the street,” he said._

_“It’s a date,” answered Scarlett._

The people on the street are wearing various costumes, from witches to wizards to pop culture characters like Davy Crockett and Mary Poppins and Darth Vader and Malificent and Spider-Man and the Incredible Hulk. The Song “Ain’t No Fun (If the Homies Can’t Get None)” by Snoop Doggy Dogg is blasted out of a boombox carried by this man wearing a denim vest, denim jeans with holes at the knees,  and a faux gold chain. Alcohol is freely served at makeshift bars.

Scarlett herself wears a short black dress than barely extends below her hips. On her back are some wings, and on her head is a hairband with horns- a succubus, she had called her costume. Her date had sworn he had seen her like that before.

Fred gulps down another drink. “This is the life,” he says.

“It is so much fun, plus I live close to here,” replies Scarlett.

“I just can’t believe it.”

Fred turns and sees a dark-haired woman in an angel costume. He recognizes her as Dr. Rachel Weinberg, one of the Gen-U-Tech geneticists.

“Hi,” says Fred.

“Is this even appropriate?” asks Weinberg.

“They’re free to go as they please.”

“So you are Charles Oakley,” says a young man in his early twenties, wearing a stereotypical cowboy costume. “I love going to Knicks games. I’d go more often if I had the money.”

“Uh, yeah. It must be nice to scrounge up enough money for Knicks tickets.”

“Let’s get some food,” says Scarlett.

And so they do, going inside this Irish pub. They sit down at the place.

The pub has plenty of wooden tables and booths. A small stage is in the back. Almost all of the patrons are in some sort of costume, and almost all of them are holding a glass with some sort of alcoholic beverage.

A blond-haired waitress in a short green skirt approaches the table.

“Oh wow,” she says, looking at Fred. “You’re Charles Oakley.”

“Really?” he asks.

“I’m such a big Knicks fan. I can’t wait for the next home game. May I take your order?”

And so she takes their orders. Fred drinks dark Guiness from a glass. Soon he is served a shepherd’s pie, while Scarlett has a corned beef sandwich on rye. Looking around while sipping some Guiness, the mutate feels a sense of welcome, as if he fits right in, not having to be shut out from the rest of society.

He had not felt this welcome all his life. He wonders how this is even possible.

Just as he finished his shepherd’s pie, Fred listens to a live band playing at the small stage.

“Shall we dance?” he asks Scarlett.

“Sure,” replies the assistant geneticist dressed as a succubus.

The two of them go up and dance of the small dance floor near the stage, with Fred keeping his wings folded in front of him. Sitting at the table, Rachel watches the both of them.

Scarlett feels her heart beating faster. She had not felt like this in a long time.

He looks into her partner’s eyes.

The song ends and they sit down together, smiling.

After the bill is paid, with Fred gawking at the size of the bill not having had to pay much for food, they all leave.

“That was great,” says the mutate, leaving the bar, still seeing so many costumed people out on the street. “Haven’ty had food like that, not even when I was staying with Xanatos.”

“Howe about we watch a movie,” says Scarlett.  “The theater should be around the corner.”

“Sure,” replies Fred.

“See you later,” says Rachel, before leaving with her cowboy date.

The two of them walk down the street, hand in hand.

In the distance, they see some sort of altercation. Some sort of furry creature broke out of a building, and had a fight with this winged creature, who was then thrown against a car.

“It’s one of those gargoyle things,” says Fred. “The ones working for the cops. Figures they’d be out tonight.”

He sees the creature, and the gargoyle, climb up the side of the building.

“The theater is this way, “ says Scarlett.

And so the two of them reach an AMC theater. The line is nonexistent, so Scarlett is able to quickly buy tickets for the two of them. Fred looks around inside, not having visited theaters in such a long time.

 

Ooooooooooooo

 

“The best thing about it was the popcorn, honesty,” says Fred Sykes, walking out of the AMC theater with an empty bucket of buttered popcorn.

“As for the movie, well, I mean, I won’t mind watching it when it’s shown on TV, but I’m not gonna spend money to rent it from Blockbuster,” says Scarlett.

The two have them had just watched the movie _Vampire in Brooklyn_ , starring Eddie Murphy and Angela Bassett; it had just been released last Friday. There had been parts of the movie that they enjoyed.

“May I take you home?” asks the mutate.

“Sure,” replies Scarlett.

They go to an alley. Fred holds Scarlett and flaps his wings, rising into the air. Soon he is above the rooftops.

Scarlett’s apartment is not too far, and soon they find themselves on the balcony just outside her bedroom. The assistant geneticist steps inside the bedroom.

“Can I come in?” asks Fred.

“Sure,” replies Scarlett.

And he does. He never had a great look at the bedroom the first time he had been here, nearly a month ago. He sees a bed, fully made, as well as a wooden dresser. There is a door and a closet.

He follows his date out through the door and into a living room with a kitchenette at the side. Scarlett takes a bottle from the counter. She then opens a drawer in the kitchenette and takes out this stainless steel device, using it to remove the cork from the bottle.

“Wine?” she asks.

“Sure,” Fred replies.

Scarlett pours red wine into these wine glasses and soon the two of them drink.

“You bring anyone else over to yer place?” asks the mutate.

“Rachel’s been here a few times. She’s always good company.” She walks to a 36-inch Sony color television. She kneels down and inserts a cartridge into the Super Nintendo Entertainment System. Less than a minute later, _Super Mario Kart_ is displayed on the screen.

‘How about some drunk drivin’, mister?” asks Scarlett.

Fred does not need to answer. Soon, he and Scarlett are both playing _Super Mario Kart_. They both laugh a lot as they play the game.

“Can’t believe I keep losing,” says Fred, holding the controller.

“I mean, I do worse when I’m drunk, but its’ a lot funner,” replies the assistant geneticist. “What are ya going to do? With yer life?”

“I want to be, you know the big fish. I can’t just lay around bein’ a guinea pig. That’s what Freaky Freddy would do.”

“Freaky Freddy. That’s what these boys ion school used to call me. They kept picking on me.”

“I understand.” Scarlett places her hand on Fred’s furry right arm. “what happened to those boys?”

“Don’t know. I guess they’re either in Sing Sing or runnin’ Wall Street.”

“You need a different name. You need to stop being Freaky Freddy. We can think of a new name.”

He looks into her spring grass green eyes.

He leans in.

And kisses her.

He pulls back, a bit fearful of how she would react.

She kisses him back.

Soon they are in her bedroom.

Fred gazes at her figure, seeing the cleavage of her breasts, her bare legs below her short skirt.

Scarlett gazes at his figure, seeing the well-muscled furry arms, the cougar-like face, the wings draped over his shoulders.

She reaches back and unzips the back zipper of her succubus costume. A second later, it slips off.

Fred immediately looks at her bare breasts, seeing the nipples with their large areolas. His heart races and he breathes heavily at the site. He immediately removes his shirt and pulls down his shorts.

She gazes at his fully erect penis for the first time. She walks up to him, rubbing her hands through his fur. He gets harder in reaction to her fingers rubbing against the skin underneath his fur.

They go to her bedroom. She lays down on her back. He gets on top, kneeling down, with his knees spread apart.

She gets a close up view of his cock. She can see the veins pulsating, indicating the lustful state he is in. hanging below are two testicles inside a brown velvet sack. She reaches out with her left hand to touch his male organ, and his dick reacts and soon as the flesh of her hand makes contact. His heart races.

He bends his knees, bringing his raging boner closer to her tits. His excitement magnifies when his dick makes contact with her bare tittie flesh. His fuck tool rests between her tits, and she squeezes her breasts together.

Pushing against his knees, he moves his cock in between her tits, feeling the tittie flesh rub against the sides of his shaft. It feels better than anything he had ever felt. She sees a close up of his dick, seeing a droplet of liquid right at the slit.

“Oh yeah,” he says. “Yer ttities feel so good!”

“They like your mutate cock,” she replies.

It is time.

He moves back, and she bends forward, pulling down her panties, the last bit of clothing on her. She is now completely naked, with nothing covering her bare skin. She spreads her legs apart.

He gazes at the sight below him. Her vulva is fully exposed, with pale lips framing the entrance into her vagina, the most feminine, the most intimate part of her body. There is crimson red fuzz just above.

He had never seen anything so beautiful. He looks at it for maybe five minutes, captivated by her beauty.

But merely looking would be the Freaky Freddy way of doing things.

He lowers himself, until the glans of his fuck rod makes contact with her lady lips.

Their hearts race in anticipation.

And then he stick his mutated, stiff, erect, throbbing  penis inside her sopping wet vagina.

They calm down, just enjoying the feeling of him inside her, of the extension of his masculinity inside the core of her femininity.

He pulls back a bit, and then thrusts his cock into her cunt. The two of them go into a rhythm, as his boner thrusts into and pulls out of her fuck sheath. Her breasts jiggle as his fuck pole goes in and out of her feminine passage. He grunts with every thrust, the pleasure magnified.

She runs his finger through his brown fur.

He rubs her tits, and runs his fingers through the crimson red hair on her head.

The pain of their past is deeply buried underneath the feelings of ecstasy.

She moans as his dick continues the rhythm. Feelings of ecstasy radiate from her pussy. She had never felt like this before. There is no better man to make her feel like a woman.

As he continues fucking her cuntal sheath, he feels the ecstasy concentrating towards his cock. He knows what is going to happen.

Her vaginal muscles contracted, squeezing his fuck tool really heard.

He grunts loudly as erupts in ecstasy, sending his mutate sperm past her cervix and into her womb. He keeps spurting again and again, filling his lover with his seed. It continues for maybe twenty  minutes, until his nuts are drained.

Nothing more needs to be said.

They fall asleep, his penis inside her vagina.

Ooooooooooo

**November 1, 1995**

Scarlett Mallory stirs awake. It takes a few seconds for her to realize she is next to her furry lover, embraced by his wings.

“Good morning,” she says.

“Good morning,” he replies.

She looks at him, staring at the wedge shape nose, the eyes with the slit irises.

 “You don’t have to be Freaky Freddy anymore,” she says. She touches one of his fangs with an index finger. “You are Fang.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new relationship blooms. What will be the consequences?

**November 1, 1995**

 “Fang,” says Fred Sykes.

“Yes, Fang,” replies Scarlett Mallory. “Fred Sykes, dba Fang.”

“D B A?”

“doing business as.”

“Doing business as Fang.” He gazes into Scarlett’s eyes. “I wish we could be like this, forever.”

She looks at a General Electric radio alarm clock. “Great, I’ll be late. There’s no way.”

“There is a way,” says Fred.

“All right,” replies Scarlett.

“Before you put yer clothes on, let me have one last look at you. “

He stares at Scarlett’s nude form. He stares at her two large breasts for a few seconds, before she covers them up with her bra. She then lies on the bed and spreads her thighs, giving the cougarman mutate a full view of her sweet vulva. He gazes at her inner thighs streaked with his dried mutate semen,  her lady lips, the red fuzz, and her vaginal opening, before she covers up the most feminine part of her body with her panties.

She puts on the rest of her clothes quickly, soon being covered in a black dress and a white blouse.

“I wish I had time to put on makeup,” she says.

“Then let’s get going,” says Fred, lifting up Scarlett.

“You are going to fly with clothes on, right?”

“Oh yea, what was I thinking?”

Scarlett gazes at his nude furry form one last time, looking at his mutated manhood that had made her feel like a woman.

Fred quickly puts on the shorts from his Charles Oakley costume. He then picks up Scarlett again.

“Welcome back to Sykes…no, welcome to the debut flight of Fang Airlines,” he says. “Make sure to fasten yer seatbelt and place yer tray in the upright position!”

He goes to the fire escape and flaps his wings, rising to the air. He then spreads them wide.

He is Freaky Freddy no more.

He is Fang.

Not too long afterward, they arrive at Gen-U-Tech headquarters in Manhattan.

“Oh hi,” says Dr. Rachel Weinberg, approaching the two, and noticing that Scarlett’s crimson red hair is all mussed up. “I take it your date went well?”

“Yes,” replies Scarlett.

“Dr. Mallory,” says Dr. Anton Sevarius, wearing his white lab coat. “There is much work to do.”

“Sure,” replies the assistant geneticist. She turns towards her new lover. “See you later, _Fang_.”

“Thank you for flying Fang Airlines,” replies the mutate dba Fang.

“I do hope to earn frequent flyer miles.”

Fang flaps his wings and flies off.

Oooooooo

**November 2, 1995**

Owen Burnett walks to a bedroom inside Castle Wyvern. It is luxuriously furnished. David Xanatos is inside, trying on tuxedoes for his upcoming wedding.

“Any updates?” asks the billionaire industrialist, adjusting the bow-tie around his neck.

“I do have an interesting update, sir,” replies Owen. “Dr. Mallory of Gen-U-Tech is in a sexual relationship with one of the mutate test subjects.”

“Oh really?” asks Xanatos, not betraying any sort of feeling of surprise or disgust. “Which one?”

“The one whose given name is Fred Sykes. He was..is..a two-bit hoodlum who spent half of his adult life in Rikers Island. He does know that Dr. Sevarius  is still alive.”

“What can you tell me of Dr. Mallory?”

“Dr. Scarlett Mallory,” says Owen in his flat monotonic voice. “Native of Cherry Hill, New Jersey, near Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Graduated from Columbia, doctorate from Johns Hopkins in Baltimore, employed by Gen-U-Tech since last year, worked on the mutate bio weapons project.”

“What a mismatch they are. I suppose Mr. Duval will find out soon enough.”

“They are not keeping their relationship a secret from the staff at Gen-U-Tech. It is inevitable that Duval would find out. I did order that these two be monitored.”

“And we will continue that course for now, Owen. I trust you will take any necessary actions.”

“Yes, sir.”

Xanatos briefly thinks about Gen-U-Tech, founded in the early 1990’s. He recruited Anton Sevarius and the best geneticists around the world. Gen-U_Tech worked on various projects.

Starting in 1993, samples collected from the annual physicals of Xanatos Enterprises employees were sent to Gen-U-Tech.

Except Owen Burnett.

Xanatos could not trust Sevarius or anyone with any DNA samples from Owen Burnett.

The reason would be too fantastic for most people to understand.

David Xanatos puts these thoughts aside.

He has his  wedding to focus on.

Amazing that love could affect his priorities.

Oooooooooo

**November 4, 1995**

“You have to be kidding me,” says Maggie Reed, wearing some beef stroganoff.

The mutates are all sitting down around a table in the cafeteria. Many of the staffers and researchers at the Westchester County facility eat here. The décor is much more sophisticated than a cafeteria at a public school or Rikers Island.

“True love is just so hard to find,” says Dr. Scarlett Mallory, sitting close to Fred Sykes.

The tigerman rolls his eyes backwards, eating silently.

“That’s right,” says the cougar mutate. “And you can call me Frea- you can call me Fang.”

“Fang, eh?” replies the panther mutate calling himself Talon.

“I came up with the name,” says Scarlett.

“Of course,” says Maggie. “You must have gotten a good look at his mouth.”

“Not only that,” says Fang. “I’ve had some lovely views myself. That’s for me to see and for you to imagine.”

“You got that right!” exclaims Scarlett, forking another bite of beef stroganoff.

“Now that I am Fang,” says the mutate whose given name is Fred Sykes, “things are gonna be different for me. I’ve got plans.”

“Oh really,” says Talon.

“I’ll show everyone. Fang will bare his fangs.”

Scarlett gets up. “Excuse me,” she says. “I have a meeting with Dr. Phobos in the lab below.”

ooooooooooo  


**November 12, 1995**

“Welcome back, Tony,” says Glasses.

Tony Dracon walks into his apartment, looking at the luxurious furniture. He sits on the couch, brerathing the air.

“I gotta send a thank you note and a bottle of wine to my lawyer,” says the gangster. “Getting that appeals court to grant me bail.”

“ya want some wine, boss?” asks Pal Joey.

“I think I’ll just get some scotch.” Dracon walks to a kitchenette, pouring some Johnnie Walker into a small glass. He sips the beverage.

A doorbell rings. Pal Joey moves his hand to a Beretta semiautomatic pistol inside his coat. Glasses takes a look through a peephole.

“Who is it, Glasses?” asks Tony.

“It’s a clown.”

“A clown?” asks Dracon.

He makes a hand gesture to Pal Joey and the other guards. “Open the door.”

Glasses opens the door. They see a clown all right, with a multicolored wig, a red nose, face painted white. Some sort of cape is draped over the clown’s torso.

Dracon glances at the visitor’s feet, and sees that they are furry and animal-like.

“What do you want?” asks Glasses.

“First, I want congratulate Tony Dracon for making bail,” says the clown.

“Why thank you,” says Dracon. “Now you can go about your business.”

“I would actually like to work for ya, Mr. Dracon.”

“I don’t run a circus.”

Glasses shuts the door.

“We might as well sweep the room for bugs,” says Glasses.

There is a knock on the door leading to the balcony. Dracon and glasses look and see that clown.

“How did he get there?” asks Glasses.

Dracon opens the door and looks at the clown. “Listen, buddy. I don’t know how you managed to get there…”

The clown’s cape opens up, revealing it to be a pair of wings. The clown flaps his wings and rises into the air.

“I could be useful to ya, Mr. Dracon,” says the flying clown. “And check this out.”

Dracon and the others see a bolt of light shoot out from the clown’s hand towards the ground many stories below.

“Nice parlor trick,” says Dracon. “Anyone to vouch for you?”

“Well, uh, no.”

“See, here’s the thing. You could be an undercover cop. Or you could be a spy from a rival gang that wants to muscle into my turf. So you might as well leave, because, right now, the only thing you’re good for is target practice.”

The clown jumps off the balcony and flies off.

He is disappointed.

Apparently, Dracon has no more use for Fang than he did for Freaky Freddy.

Fang lands on the fire escape of a condemned building. Lou and Chaz are inside.

The look on their friend’s face is all they need.

“It’s just a setback,” says Lou.

“My whole life is a setback!” cries Fang.

“Yer banging that hot chick from the lab,” says Chaz. “That’s gotta count for somethin’.”

“Well, getting to the top takes hard work,” says Fang.

“Well, Dracon did get everythin’ handed to him,” says Lou. “Born with a silver spoon in his mouth and a Colt Python in his hand.”

“Really, Lou?” asks Chaz.

Ooooooo

 

**November 14, 1995**

Fang  is back in the Westchester County facility. It is evening, and he is sitting in the lounge which has a wet bar and a wide-screen color television.

A human researcher sits near him. The staff had gotten used to him and the other mutates over the past two weeks.

“Dr. Phobos, “ says the researcher.

The bespectalced figure in a plaid suit walks in. “I can’t spend all of my time down in the lab.” He looks at the TV, which shows a National Basketball Association game between the New York Knicks and the Portland Trailblazers from the Rose Garden Arena in Portland, Oregon.

“Good to see ya, Doc,” says Fang.

“Ah, Mr. Sykes,” says Phobos. “Anton has said much about you.”

Phobos, of course, is aware about how the mutates- except Fang- are supposed to believe Anton is dead.

Fang glances at the game, watching the players move around the court.

Then the image on the screen is replaced with that of a crimson-hauired woman.

Or not quite, for she has blue skin and pointed ears. She wears a gold tiaras on her head. She is chanting in Latin.

“Hey, what happened to the game?” asks the researcher.

Fang takes the remote and changes the channel. The image of the blue-skinned feminine figure, chanting in Latin, is on all the channels.

“That’s a gargoyle,” says Fang.

“Great,” says the researcher, a dark-haired amber-complected man. “I can’t believe they have this shit instead of the Knicks game. After all those hours in the lab.”

“Intriguing,” says Phobos, looking at the screen. “This could have some interest.”

“I guess I’ll have to read the sports section tomorrow,” mutters Fang, leaving the lounge while passing the tigerman mutate, who is watching.

Ooooooo

Inside his office in the underground lab, Phobos makes a phone call.

“An old friend has taken to the airwaves,” he says.

 

**November 15, 1995**

The news appears reveal that the Trailblazers won the previous night, 105-99. The gargoyle broadcast still continues, and many newspapers continue to report on it.

Dr. Scarlett Mallory comes to visit the mutates at the Gen-U-Tech Westchester County facility. The strange broadcast is still going on, and so the television in the lounge is mostly used to play video games.

Finally, it is time for her to say goodbye.

“Got to work in Manhattan early tomorrow,” says the assistant geneticist, giving Fang a kiss.

The cougarman mutate pulls Scarlett into his room.

“Do you have to leave right away?” he asks.

“Not for a while,” she says, closing the door and locking it.

They kiss again, and their feelings of passion intensify, even as the late afternoon sunlight, filtered by the curtain, goes into the room.

Fang’s mutated penis hardens as Scarlett reveals her bare torso, only covered by a lacy black bra. Her skirt next drops on the ground, revealing her bare thighs, and her lacy black panties covering her feminine entrance.

Fang quickly removes his shirt and his shorts, fully revealing his furry body. Scarlett runs her fingers through the fur on his back. She then reaches down and gently caresses his boner with her fingers, making longer and harder.

Scarlett gives Fang a gentle shove to the bed, and he lies down.

“What?” he asks.

“Since you were on top when we are at my place, I figure I can be on top when in your place.” She unhooks her bra and pulls down her panties, fully revealing her nude female body. Fang immediately fondles her tits, jiggling them and squeezing them together. He then looks at her beautiful vulva. He feels the red fuzz just above her lady lips. Though he had seen the opening to her ladyhood a couple of times in the past two weeks, he had never gotten tired of seeing it again and again. He lays his head on the pillow, and he sees  a close up of her vaginal opening as she is directly above his head.

She then moves back and holds up his erect cock. She lines up her cunt so that her vaginal lips touch the mutate’s glans.

And then she sinks down on his shaft.

She relaxes, just letting his stiff erect penis hold her up by her sopping wet vagina.

After maybe then minutes, she starts moving up and down on his fuck pole. She enjoys the feeling of his dick rubbing against her vaginal walls. She starts sweating as she moves up and down.

He reaches up to play with her breasts, even as he enjoys the feeling of her pussy sliding up and down his mutated manhood.

They breathe heavier.

Their hearts race faster.

The room dims as the sun sets.

Her crimson red hair moves around.

She moans as waves of pleasure and lust radiate from her cunt.

She rubs his hands through the fur on his chest.

He caresses her smooth thighs.

The motion gets faster and faster.

He grunts as pleasure and lust start falling onto his dick.

Her tits jiggle about as she moves up and down on his pulsating boner.

The grunts and moans continue.

Her pussy is burning hot.

His dick and nuts are fully energized.

Her vagina squeezes his penis hard.

And they turn to stone as the sun sets.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The people of New York city have turned to stone. Can the U.S. military solve this mystery?

The United States Air Force Sikorsky HH-60G Pave Hawk helicopter flies in the sky towards Queens, its two General Electric T700-GE-700 turboshaft engines turning the rotors. The Pave Hawk was first introduced in 1982 for use by the United States Air Force in search and rescue operations. In this particular helicopter, several airmen, fully geared, are on a potential mission. From what they had heard, the air traffic control at John F. Kennedy International Airport went silent around dusk, and nobody has been able to reach anyone there, or anyone within fifty miles of New York City.

They are all nervous, not knowing what had happened. A plague?

An alien abduction?

“Lights are still on,” says the pilot, a warrant officer. “Wait, there’s someone down there.”

A light is shone upon a United Airlines Boeing 767-300. The orange emergency slide had deployed, and several people slid down. Some of the people gathered bnear the bottom of the slide styart weaving upon seeing the lights on the helicopter.

The Pave Low lands just a few dozen feet away. Soon, the airmen rush out, led by an Air Force lieutenant.

“What’s going on?” asks a woman who was one of the passengers aboard the 767.

“We’re here to find out,” replies the lieutenant. “Anyone know what’s going on?”

“The pilot told us that no one at the airport seems to be answering.”

“what time did you land?”

“Around sunset, I think.”

The lieutenant looks to his men. “We’ll do recon inside the terminal.”

“Yes, sir,” the other airmen snap.

And so they go in via a service door reading “AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY”. They walk through a short hallway and reach the gate.

The first thing they notice is not the chairs nor the duty-free shop on the other side of the concourse nor the monitor screens showing the departures and arrivals of dozens of flights.

The first thing they notice are statues of people.

Many of the statues are upright. Other statues are sitting down on some of the chairs and benches. One of them is at the boarding gate, apparently dressed in a United Airlines uniform.

As they move about the concourse in the terminal, they see more statues, both on the main concourse and the shops and fast food places lining the concourse. It looks as if these statues had been captured in the midst of doing something, from reading a newspaper to watching a monitor screen to eating a meal.

One of them happens upon a  sports bar. There are statues inside, siome sitting at the tables and bars, other standing. A statue of a waitress in a knee-length skirt and low cut blouse is holding a tray- a real tray with real food and drinks.

He sees something on the TV, but it is not ESPN. It is a video of a blue feminine figure, chanting in an archaic language.

Another one of the airmen sees what happens.

The airman watching the television turns to stone.

Meanwhile, the lieutenant and his escorts reach the baggage claim area. They briefly notice the usual baggage carousels with all sorts of luggage riding around.

There are still some statues.

And people.

Living, breathing people.

“You’re alive!” yells a man. “You’re alive!”

“What’s going on?” asks the lieutenant.

“Everyone turned to stone! After dark, everyone turned the stone.”

“We got an emergency!” the lieutenant hears over the radio. “It’s Wilson. He just turned to stone.”

Not even the advanced Air Force ROTC courses at Loyola Marymount could have prepared him for this.

“We are gonna need reinforcements,” he says.  

Ooooooo

Mr. Duval walks along a hallway in the Pentagon and into a conference room. Already several people- both military and civilian- are inside, including the entirety of the Joint Chief of Staff. They had all been called here on short notice- the military people are in camouflage instead of their Class “A” service uniforms.

A bespectacled man dressed in a suit walks in. Duval recognizes him with his brown hair and his early fifties appearance. He is William J. Perry, Secretary of Defense of the United States of America.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” says Perry. “My apologies for calling you all here on short notice. There is an emergency situation. I want to go over this before debrief the President. General Payne, if you will.”

“Yes, sir,” says an Air Force major general. “At about 1645, Eastern Standard Time, all communications with JFK, La Guardia, and  Newark were strangely cut off. No phone calls to the New York metropolitan area had been answered. A recon team was sent from McGuire Air Force Base in New Jersey, to JFK.

“Sirs, when they landed, they found people turned to stone.”

Duval places his hand on his chin while many of the other people in the room murmur.

“Did we hear you right?” asks the Secretary of Defense.

“Yes, sir. They heard from other people who apparently landed in JFK after 1600, and one of them saw one of the recon team- an Airman Wilson- turn to stone.”

“Anything else?” asks United States Army General John Shalikashvili, the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff.

“The National Guard had been mobilized and blockaded the roads leading to the greater New York area, and flights have been diverted from JFK, La Guardia, and Newark,” answers Payne. “More recon teams are searching the area. We also have recorded a strange broadcast which overrode broadcast and cable signals in greater New York.”

“It may be related,” says Perry. “Perhaps we should watch.”

Duval feels a bit nervous. A Marine staff sergeant inserts a VHS video cassette into a video cassette recorder mounted on the wall.

Perry and the others see an image of a blue feminine figure chanting in Latin.

Duval’s eye widens. He runs to the VCR and stops the playback.

“Mr. Duval?” asks the Secretary of Defense.

“Pardon me, Mr. Secretary,” says Duval, “but we must not watch and listen to that recording simultaneously. We must either watch or listen, but never both at the same time.”

“I’ll get something to cover up the screen,” says the Marine staff sergeant.

“Do it,” says Perry. “We shall listen.”

“Aye aye, sir.”

Minutes later, the staff sergeant arrives with a large pierce of paper and Scotch tape. He covers up the screen, taping it with the Scotch tape.

“Shall I, sir?” asks the staff sergeant.

The Secretary of Defense makes a hand gesture, and the Marine presses the play button. The image obscured by the brown paper, Perry and the others listen.

 

_“Omnes conspecti, omnes auditi_

_In nocte usque ad saxum commutate_

_Dum caelum ardeat.”_

The quote repeats.

“What is that?” asks a Navy admiral.

“Sirs,” I know what that is,” says a civilian woman in a dark suit. “I took Latin. All who see this, all who hear this, turn to stone throughout the night, until the skies burn.”

“Throughout the night,” says Shalikashvili.

“It seems I will have to monitor this situation myself,” says the Secretary of Defense. “We will need to set up a forward operating base in McGuire. We will also need some SpecOps teams to back us up.”

Oooooo

**November 16, 1995**

A platoon of United States Marines, having traveled all the way from Quantico, walk along a street in Manhattan, clutching their M-16’s. They had seen so many stone statues, as if people turned to stone.

“We got something,” says the Marine lieutenant leading the platoon.”

He and the others see a different scene.

There are pieces of statues littering the sidewalks.

“Sir, we may need to call this to McGuire,” says a gunnery sergeant.

“Lieutenant,” says a private,” one of them’s in one piece.”

The lieutenant takes a closer look. There is a statue of a woman, apparently walking.

She has no arms.

Ooooo

Secretary Perry walks out to the tarmac of McGuire Air Force Base in New Jersey, escorted by General Shalikashvili and Mr. Duval. A United States Marine Corps Sikorsky CH-53E Super Stallion heavy-lift helicopter touches down, and some Marines step out. Two of them carry a statue and set it down.

“We found pieces of statues, sirs,” says the lieutenant, holding a head from one of the statues he found in Manhattan.

Duval looks closely at the statue of a woman with two legs. The arms are missing, as if they had been broken off. Using his cybermetic eye, he zooms in on the stumps, clearly seeing petrified blood vessels and muscle tissue.

“We need to get this statue to the emergency room!” he yells. “We need a trauma team to stand by! We have three hours!”

“You know what is going on,” says the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff.

“Much less than you think, sir,” replies Duval.

“Call the paramedics,” the Secretary of Defense says to an Air Force officer.

Perry frowns. He feels as if things are going to get worse.

 


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NYC turns to stone at night. How will the U.S. military fix this problem?

**November 16, 1995**

As the sun rises, the stone forms of Fred Sykes and Dr. Scarlett Mallory turns to flesh again, and the mutate also known as Fang geysers his seed past her cervix and into her womb, grunting loudly as he does so.

“Oh yeah,” says Scarlett, feeling his juices even as she bobs up and down his fuck pole. “Give me more of that mutate cum!”

She continues sliding her vagina up and down his erupting, ejaculating penis for twenty more minutes. After finally getting off his cock, semen dripping out of her cunt, Scarlett notices the room is too bright. She briefly peeks out the window.

“It’s morning,” she says. “Were we at it all night?”

“Maybe my mutation allows me to last twelve hours,” says the mutate also known as Fang.

Scarlett kisses him. “Good morning,” she says. “I’d better find out what’s going on.”

The assistant geneticist starts to dress.

Ooooooooo

In McGuire Air Force Base in New Jersey, Secretary of Defense William J. Perry had set up a temporary command post to monitor what is known as the petrification of the greater New York Area. Several servicemen in various services sit at consoles, hearing and seeing information coming in from all sources. Already they know of people petrifying across the world, most of them who had left the New York during the daytime yesterday.

Among the servicemen in the room is one United States Air Force Airman Dante Wilson. Only nineteen years old, the airman had trained in search and rescue. Unlike the others in the room, he is a stone statue.

The room gets a little brighter as the sun rises.

Airman Dante Wilson becomes flesh again. He looks around in confusion, not seeing the sports bar in John F. Kennedy International Airport.

“Where am I?” he asks.

“Easy, Wilson,” says his lieutenant. “You’re back in McGuire.”

“Allow me to introduce myself,” says Perry. “I am William Perry, Secretary of Defense.”

“Mr. Secretary?” asks Airman Wilson, seeing one of the top men in the U.S. military establishment, apart from the President of the United States.

“You had turned to stone when you saw that strange broadcast, and stayed that way until sunrise.”

“Turned to stone? Like the way people turn to stone when they see that bitch with the snake hair…sir?”

“That is one way to put it, Airman,” answers the Secretary of Defense.

Some Air Force medics enter the room.

“Airman Wilson,” says Perry, “You will need a full medical exam, in light of these circumstances.”

“Yes, sir,” replies the airman.

 

Oooooo

Not far away, there is an emergency room inside the hospital in McGuire Air Force Base. Various Air Force medical officers and medics are inside, all in gowns, all having scrubbed themselves.

What they have is a most unusual patient. Lying on the table is a stone statue of a woman, very lifelike, save that she is missing her arms.

“Get ready,” Mr. Duval says over a speaker. “One minute to sunrise.”

The surgical team feels confused about working on this stone statue. They would not do this, had not the Secretary of Defense himself- second only to the President in the U.S. military establishment – had insisted on this.

A gas mask is over the statue’s mouth, anesthesia is already being administered.

The statue becomes flesh, and the surgeons hear a muffled scream.

“Get those tourniquets on, stat!” yells the lead surgeon even as blood spurts from the stumps of the woman’s arms.

Inside an observation room, Duval watches for a minute before contacting Secretary Perry.

Oooooooooo

There is much confusion inside Gen-U-Tech’s Westchester County facility, like the rest of the greater New York area.

“One minute, it was near sunset, the next minute, it’s morning,” says the lioness mutate known as Maggie Reed.

“Just like everyone,” says Scarlett Mallory.

“Good morning to you,” someone says.

Fang and Scarlett turns to see the white-lab-coat clad, bespectacled form of Dr. Phobos.

“Good morning, Doc,” says Fang.

“Ah, young love,” says Phobos. “I remember courting women while attending Cambridge. I recall one of my classmates, Charles Da… We studied science together; he later decided to study evolution.”

“What happened last night?” asks Scarlett.

“Everyone turned to stone at night,” replies the geneticist.

“How would you know that?” asks Fang.

“Security cameras, my dear boy.”

“So why did we turn to stone? One of yer lab boys drop a beaker or something, and release this gas that turned us into sculptures?”

“We’re not working on any research here regarding petrification. A few months ago, I did work on petrification. I created a device that can petrify living matter. Perhaps someone copied the technology and put it on a satellite to petrify all of New York.”

“That would make one hell of a weapon in war,” says Fang.

“Or petrifying wounded soldiers, giving them all the time in the world to get them to a hospital,” says Scarlett. “Wait a minute.  Isn’t it harmful for you to be out in the morning?”

Phobos looks through a large glass window, letting him see the wide open field outside, as well as a wooden utility shed. “The glass here does filter out enough harmful rays,” replies the scientist. “I can be here for a few minutes.”

Fang looks through the window.

He notices something wrong.

“Time to go now,” says Phobos. “We will, of course, need full medical exams. Dr. Mallory?”

“Wait,” replies Scarlett. “I have to be at headquarters now. I mean, I was gonna leave yesterday, but I turned to stone, as you said.”

“You and I can speak with the manager there over the phone.”

The two geneticists leave.

It is not long before Fang and the rest of the mutates are in examination rooms, prodded by doctors in white coats.

Oooooooo

Secretary Perry steps out from the Humvee and into the street, escorted by Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff U.S. Army General John Shalikashvili, Mr. Duval, and a Navy captain named Nathan Silverblum. It looks like a typical street in Manhattan, with stores lining the sidewalk.

What the Secretary of Defense immediately notices is stone rubble lying on the street. The National Guard, having been called to federal service, had blockaded the street, with troops bearing M-16 rifles approaching.

A man in a suit stands in the rubble, escorted by uniformed police officers.

“William Bratton, NYPD Commissioner,” says the man in the suit, shaking hands with Perry.

The Secretary of Defense introduces himself and the others. “We are here to investigate a possible attack on not just New York, but the U.S. as well,” he says grimly.

“And the rubble on the street?”

“We believe these are petrified human remains.”

Bratton’s eyes widen. He had seen the report on TV, when a woman claimed that everyone turned to stone at night. But then reviewing security camera footage from different sources, and now walking down this rubble-strewn street blockaded by the National Guard.

Duval picks up a piece of stone, revealing what appears to be a human eye etched into it.

“Take a look here,” he says to them, holding the piece of stone close to Perry’s face. “As you can see, sir, that clearly is a piece of a petrified human brain.”

The Secretary of Defense looks, and can see the folds ansd wrinkles, which looks like pictures of human brain that he had seen. He hands the stone piece to the NYPD Commissioner.

“We will of course, take some samples for testing,” says Perry.

“The Department will provide whatever support necessary,” replies Bratton.

A soldier comes out of the store.

“What is it?” asks the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff.

“Sir,” says the soldier, “we found surveillance footage.”

“We’ll make copies of the tape, including one for the New York City government,” says the Secretary of Defense.

Captain Silverblum listens to a radio.

“We have a lead,” says the Navy captain. “We have word that the FCC traced the strange broadcast from last night, to this place called Pack Media Studios, right here in Manhattan.”

“I can send police to investigate,” says the NYPD Commissioner.

“Captain Silverblum, you will escort the local police to search this Pack Media Studios,” says Perry.

“Yes, sir,” answers Silverblum.

Oooooooooo

“Everything seems the same as before,” says Dr. Scarlett Mallory, sitting at a conference table, sipping a cup of coffee with cream and sugar. “Blood work, DNA, body temperature, all consistent with exams prior to last night.”

She and the others could hardly believe that they all turned to stone last night. Dr. Phobos had shown them security camera footage.

“Nothing outside of historical parameters from our guests,” says another doctor, a man in his thirties with brown skin, dark hair, and a big nose. “We can’t identify what turned them-or us- into stone.”

Phobos reads the reports. The results are not consistent with someone who had been depetrified after petrification via the Medusa Device. Something else turned almost everyone within fifty miles of New York City to stone.

“The important thing is that Fang and the others are healthy,” says Scarlett.

Oooooooo

“So you think burning the sky will work?” asks Secretary of Defense William Perry.

“I do believe that whatever petrifies people is in the skies, so I figure setting the sky ablaze will eliminate it,” answers David Xanatos.

Perry and the others had gone to Castle Wyvern on top of the Eyrie Building, following a tip from Mr. Duval. Xanatos introduced himself and Owen Burnett to the Secretary of Defense.

“Why should we believe him?” asks General John Shalikashvili.

“Sirs, I have worked with Mr. Xanatos,” says Duval. “One of the projects he did for us was a study on the petrification of living organisms. We hoped that it would provide useful both in combat and medicine.”

“Sort of like suspended animation,” says Captain Nathan Silverblum.

“The plan is to launch these robots,” says Xanatos. Perry and the others see giant, winged, metal figures, with two arms ending in taloned hands, two legs with clawed feet, and two wings attached to the back, behind the shoulders. “They will release this flammable gas. After the sky is filled with gas.”

“You can do this now?” asks the Secretary of Defense.

“The earliest we can deploy is two hours from now,” says Xanatos. “It will already be past sunset. I will not turn to stone, so I will be okay.”

“Is there anything we can do to help?”

“Just keep the airspace within fifty miles of Manhattan clear.”

“That we are already doing.”

Perry and the others step into the elevator in the great hall.

Ooooooo

It is almost sunset, and Scarlett walks into Fang’s room.

“We can’t find anything wrong,” says Scarlett. “No unusual chemicals or anything.”

“Are we going to turn to stone every night?” asks Fang. “I mean, we need a nightlife, ya know.”

“Well, I do have to head back to Manhattan tomorrow morning.”

The sun sets, and the two of them turn to stone.

Ooooooooo

Airman Dante Wilson presents his ID to the guard, and then ebnters the command post.

“Mr. Secretary, Airman Dante Wilson, reporting as ordered, sir,” he says.

“Good,” says Secretary William Perry.

“Two minutes until sunset,” says Duval.

The sun sets, and they see Airman Wilson turn to stone.

General John Shalikashvili takes a closer look. “Even his clothes turned to stone,” he says.

“All fighters report ready,” says an Air Force senior airman, sitting at a console.

“Deploy,” says the Secretary of Defense.

Outside on the tarmac, Major Joe Randles, wearing a green flight suit, checks the instruments of huis U.S. Air Force F-15 Eagle. The board is green. Afgter being cleared by the tower in McGuire, he pushes the throttle forward, and soon the Eagle rises into the air.

Not during his years as a cadet in Colorado Springs, not during his time dogfighting in the skies above Iraq, could he have imagined doing a BARCAP around a literal city of stone. The other fighters soon follow him.

“No sign of any incoming bogies,” says the fighter pilot, looking at the radar screen.

“Let’s hope this works,” says Duval.

Both the Eagles and a Boeing E-3 Sentry keep watch, in case any aircraft ignores warnings to stay away from the greater NYC area.

“All road and rail blockades are still up,” says an Army colonel.

There is nothing that the people here can do but watch. The servicemen at the consoles give up to date reports every few minutes.

Then they hear another report.

“The sky,” says Major Randles. “The sky above New York’s on fire.”

Secretary Perry, General Shaliskashvili, and Mr. Duval look towards the stone form of Dante Wilson.

Wilson suddenly turns back into flesh.

“Airman Wilson,” says Perry, “welcome back.”

“Welcome back?” asks the airman, similarly confused.

“Xanatos did it,” says Shalikashvili.

“We’re getting reports!” yells a Navy commander. “The people, they’re turning back to normal!”

Ooooooooo

Fang and Scarlett tur back to flesh.

“It’s still dark,” says Scarlett.

Fang looks through the window, seeing darkness, with only the outlines of trees visible.

He turns on a light. “Well, we weren’t stone all the way to sunrise,” he says.

He pulls the assistant geneticist closer. “There is a part of me that’s still hard.”

“and part of me that’s getting wet.”

Their clothes come off. Soon, his raging, pulsating boner goes right into her sopping wet snatch, pulling out and thrusting in repeatedly, until another huge load of mutate semen is fired into her feminine chamber.

 

Oooooooooo

**November 19, 1995**

“So everyone was a stone statue,” says Dr. Anton Sevarius, sitting behind his desk at his office at Gen-U-Tech Headquarters in Manhattan. “I wouldn’t believe it had I not seen the security footage.”

“Our guests continue to be in good health,” replies Dr. Scarlett Mallory. “Of course, given their unique conditions, the only metric we have are the exam results from before they turned to stone.”

“I can say that the Medusa Device technology was not involved,” says Dr. Phobos. “Test results are different than if they went through petrification-depetrification via the Medusa process.”

“We are going to be busy here,” says Sevarius. “Xanatos himself has ordered medical examinations for all employees in the greater New York area; that’s tens of thousands of medical examinations. Now we shall all get to work.”

“Of course,” replies Phobos.

“Sure,” says Scarlett.

Ooooooo

**November 20, 1995**

Scarlett walks along the hallway and unlocks the door to her apartment. It is late at night, and she had been at headquarters conducting DNA analysis on samples acquired from Xanatos Enterprises employees for ten straight hours.

She inserts the key into the keyhole and unlocks  the door. The first thing the assistant geneticIst notices is hearing the familiar sound of video games.

On her couch, she sees Fang.

“I was in the neighborhood, so I decided to stop by,” says the cougarman mutate.

There are only three people, now, that Scarlett would let into her place without an invitation.

“No time to play. I got to get to bed.”

Fang turns off the Sega Genesis. Scarlett holds his right hand and makes a gentle tug.

“There is one last game we can play together.”

“I always score.”

In a few minutes, their clothes are on the floor, with his mujtate manhood thrusting in and out of her feminine chamber.

Soon they fall asleep, his penis inside her vagina; cum leaking out.

Ooooooooo

**December 8, 1995**

Mark Landry walks along a corridor in the underground lab in Westchester County, doing his shift. As a security guard for the Xanatos Enterprises Security Force. It had not been too hard for him to choose Xanatos over the United States Army, as he had been offered a sergeant major’s salary and his prospects for promotion in the Army had become nil. 

He passes by the monsters created in this lab. He had signed so many non-disclosure agreements along with the Form W-4.

Unknown to him, and many feet away, a hand pulls a switch down.

Not long afterward, Mark hears some footsteps. They sound different, not like the sound of shoes against the concrete surface.

He briefly wonders if the sounds were of those special guests. But those guests did not have the right clearance to be down in the underground labs.

He hears this low moaning sound.

He becomes startled upon seeing the green hunch-backed bipedal monster. His heart starts racing.

He had seen these monsters before, but only in controlled environments.

“Stay down,” he firmly says, trying to mimic what the handlers had said when dealing with these creatures. “Stay down!”

The creature shrieks, leaping at Mark.

Soon there is a geyser of blood, erupting from the stump of a neck.

Mark’s head rolls along the concrete surface.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a breach at Gen-U-Tech's Westchester County underground lab. How will Fang and the mutates survive?

**December 8, 1995**

 

The underground lab is filled with chaos. Security guards, support staffers, and researchers are either being decapitated or disemboweled by the monsters grown in these very labs.

Even as they fight for their lives, some of the security guards briefly wonder why the alarm has not sounded.

In his office, Dr. Phobos is one the phone.

“We need help,” says the geneticist. “We have a breach.”

Ooooooooo

Minutes after the phone call, Bruno and his team board a helicopter. They are all dressed in full battle gear, holding their Heckler and Koch MP5s, which are nine-millimeter Parabellum submachineguns, first developed in Germany in the 1960’s.

Bruno had been briefed about what goes on in the Westchester County facility. He steels himself as the helictyoper rises into the air.

He and his team has to back up the second stringers- again.

Oooooo

Dr. Scarlett Mallory finally emerges from the stairwell and reaches the surface level. It is close to sunset, with the sky near the horizon appearing orange, not that the assistant geneticist notices it.

She does not look back as she runs. She had seen enough horror movies to know that looking back is a bad idea.

She keeps running, towards the main house.

Soon,. She meets Fang.

“What’s going on?” he asks. “I heard this announcement to go to the shelters or something like that.”

“There’s been a breach,” she answers.

Oooooooo

“Yes, sir,” says Owen Burnett, speaking over the telephone while sitting in his office in the Eyrie Building. “There was a breach in the Westchester County facility. The creatures have escaped. Already, deaths have been confirmed.”

“And our guests there?” asks David Xanatos.

“Their status is unknown at this time. Alpha team has already been deployed and should be there in ten minutes.”

“Much can happen in ten minutes. Any word of whether the military was contacted?”

“No, sir. I can neither confirm nor deny it. This isn’t a plan that you’ve neglected to mention, is it, sir?”

“No. But we will extract whatever benefit we can, after this breach is contained, of course.”

“Yes, sir,” replies Owen.

oooooo

“So what’s the situation?” asks Talon.

“We got a breach,” replies the blue-uniformed security guard. “We need to get everyone to the safe rooms.”

Fang and Scarlett are inside one of the safe rooms, which is said to have reinforced walls and doors. Fang wonders why Talon was talking to the goon like he was one of them, before remembering that Talon had been- no, still is- one of Xanatos’s goons. From what he had heard, Talon, pre-mutation, had been part of a security team for one of Dr. Phobos’s projects.

“Listen, guys,” the security guard says to the people in the safe room, “the door’s reinforced. I’ll protect you.” The guard holds up a Remington double-barreled shotgun.

The tigerman mutate then runs out of the room.

“Where is that guy going?” asks Fang.

Oooooooo

The tigerman mutate briefly remembers the exploding shells, almost like fireworks.

He remembers lying on his back on the rocky battlefield, with Corporal Slauson telling him to hang in there.

He remembers a year of hospitalization.

After that started the lost years- living on the streets, losing visitation rights.

He briefly wonders if he is doing this to die.

He must do this.

They need him.

Soon he encounters one of the monsters- a green, bipedal hunchbacked creature.

He zaps the creature, and keeps zapping it.

Some of the researchers and security guards look at him as a savior.

There is more cleaning up.

He sees another monster- a reddish creature, walking on all fours, with no skin, muscles and bones fully exposted. The creature jumps at him, extending a claw to eviscerate the mutate.

He catches the beast, and snaps its spine over his knee.

He feels alive.

Like a lead blocker, he attszcks the monsters, with the surviving security guards following him.

People are counting on him, like they did over four years before.

Oooooooo

The helicopter lands, and Bruno and the other commandos step out.

“Bruno!” cals out Talon.

“We have a situation here,” replies the commando. He had worked with Talon in the past.

“We’ve got to go rescue him. I’ll come along.”

They all go down a stairwell, their footsteps echoing on the metal stair steps, emerging into a comncrete corridor in the underground lab.

They all come across some security guards. One of them is wounded, laying on the floor.

“We have this area secure,” one of them says, holding a nine-millimeter Beretta semiautomatic pistol.

“I’ll show you the way,” says another guard.

The guard leads them to a corridor, and two of the green bipedal creatures walk about. Talon zaps them with electricity, and then Bruno downs one of them with .357 Magnum rounds fired from an IMI Desert Eagle Mark VII; the monster’s head blowing apart, spraying bone and blood and brain tissue everywhere.  Another of the guards open fire on the other monster with the Heckler and Koch MP5.

Talon wonders if any of the creatures escaped topside.

Ooooooooo

In one of the safe rooms in the big house, the people huddle as the alarms blare.

Surely the guards, along with the backup that recently arrived, would surely containers the monsters.

Then the alarm stops.

“It must be over,” says a guard.

He opens the door.

“What are ya doin’?” asks Fang.

The guard goes out to check, and then Fang and everyone else hears this screech.

And then they hear this slicing sound.

Soon the creature turns, revealing itself to be down all all fours, with no skin, just exposxed muscle and bone.

Scarlett looks at the skinless monster.

The monster lets out a raspy moan.

It then jumps.

Fang jumps too, tackling the skinless creature to the ground.

He delivers electrical shocks, turning up the amperage to the max.

Soon, the odor of cooked meat permeates the room. The skinless creature’s muscles have visibly blackened.

“I’m hungry, says one of the staffers.

Ooooooo

One of the bipeds blocks the door of a small office. It looks right at Dr. Phobos, sitting  on the floor in a corner.

“Help me!” he calls out. “Someone help me!”

The monster bends its knees, preparing to strike out with its claws.

Then suddenly Talon jumps on its back.

It thrashes, but with his great strength, he breaks the creatures arms, then repeatedly pummels the creature until it stops moving.

Bruno moves in and finishes the monster if with a well-placed .357 Magnum round.

“Thank you,” says the geneticist, standing up.

“You okay?” asks Talon.

“I’m fine.”

He, Bruno, and the others leave Phobos’s office. Soon, they round another corner.

On one hallway are corpses of monsters, both the green-skinned bipedal kind and the skinless quadrupedal kind. Some security guards are there, clutching their MP5s.

And the tigerman mutate is there as wall. He gives a thumbs up to Talon an Bruno.

Ooooo

**December 9, 1995**

Fang stirs awake, feeling push.

“Wake up,” he hears.

His catlike mutated eyestake a minute to focus, and he sees Scarlett, in her lab coat.

“Wake up,” she says.

The cougarman mutate yawns. “What time is it?”

“Noon.”

He sits up on his bed, yawning bad.

“Last night was too exciting.”

“Xanatos sent another team to explore and make sure there aren’t any monsters loose. We’ll probably destroy the remaining ones.”

“What do you know about these monsters?”

“We’re making them for the military. I don’t know anything else, and I’m not cleared to know anything else.”

“I just want to sleep.”

The assistant geneticist pulls him up. “Ya gotta eat. Doctor’s orders.”

 

Ooooooooooo

 

That same day, U.S. Navy Captain Nathan Silverblum wears his service khakis as he walks inside Office 3E494 in the Pentagon. He looks at the man sitting behind the desk.

“Let us review the video,” says Mr. Duval.

The Navy SEAL inserts a tape into a VHS video cassette recorder, pressing the play button. “As you know, we got this security footage from the Gen-U-Tech facility about thirty miles north of New York City,” says the captain.

The two men look at the footage. They see monsters decapitating and disemboweling researchers, guards, and staff. They see a humanoid tiger, escorted by security guards, fighting the monsters in the underground lab.

“Any thoughts, Nathan?” asks Duval.

“The creatures perform well when they have the element of surprise,” says Silverblum. “The winged mutates, with their powers, and clearly prepared, can overpower them. I find it hard to believe that these things actually exist. I never would have imagined it, not even during my SEAL training in Coronado.”

“I would find it hard to believe too, except that Gen-U-Tech sent samples to us- both cell and tissue samples from their creatures, as well as Dr. Sevarius’s mutagenic formula. Plus, our own doctors examined the mutates themselves. Believe me, they are not just people in furry costumes.”

Captain Silverblum looks at Duval’s eyes, both his right human one and left cybernetic one. Duval’s a well-connected man in the national security establishment. Officially, the captain reports to the Director of the Joint Staff, United States Air Force Lieutenant General Walter Kross. Silverblum knows that Duval pulled the strings resulting in him being assigned as the Joint Staff liaison with Duval’s office. The captain knows Duval is the reason he has a cushy joint assignment in the Pentagon instead of serving a life sentence in the United States Disciplinary Barracks in Fort Leavenworth.

As far as Silverblum knows, Duval has dirt on everyone, probably even the Joint Chiefs and the Office of the Secretary of Defense- dirt that could get some of them executed if exposed to the public.

Captain Silverblum had grabbed on to the horns of a raging mad bull, and there is no getting off.

Oooooooo

Elsewhere, far from the Pentagon, two people watch that same video. Cordelia watches the video of the monsters eviscerating the humans in the underground lab.

“Phobos came through for us, my lord,” she says. “These monsters are impressive combatants.”

Her lord sips from an aluminum chalice and puts it down. “No doubt it would impress the Society, my fair Cordelia,” he says. “I had  never encountered another man like Phobos. One of the most brilliant men I have ever met.”

“I should remind you, my lord, that Dr. Anton Sevarius laid the groundwork that made these creatures possible.”

Her lord remains silent for a moment. Cordelia recalls how he gave her an entirely new existence.

“Phobos knew how to apply the discoveries of others. Still, my fair Cordelia, when all is said and done, they are _living_ creatures.

“My alchemy can give them, what was it called?”

“An upgrade.”

“Yes, an upgrade.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fang and the others move back to Castle Wyvern in New york. He learns something about Talon's sister.

**December 12, 1995**

Captain Nathan Silverblum wears his dress whites, including the medals pinned to his chest, telling the story of his service. He is at the grounds of the Gen-U-Tech research facility in Westchester County. The occasion is somber, for it is a memorial service for those killed in the disaster, when the creatures got loose in the underground lab. Many people are here, including David Xanatos himself. Up above, the night sky is covered in clouds.

“Science has its risks,” says Dr. Phobos, wearing a plaid suit. “And yet, it does not diminish the loss of these fine individuals. They were more than colleagues, they were friends. It is important to remember them in life as well in death; that a part of them survives in all of us.”

Someone else speaks. She is different from the others, for she has a feline face, fur covering her body, and wings out of her back.

“I..we have always been treated like people,” says Maggie Reed. “Especially Tom Bates. He made sure we, and everyone, had all the comforts of life.”

Everyone is moved by Maggie’s speech. Some even have tears.

David Xanatos, wearing a dark coat over his charcoal-gray shirt with a mandarin collar, addresses the crowd.

“I will make sure that the families of the fallen are taken care of,” says the billionaire industrialist.

“You okay?” Fang asks Scarlett.

“It could have been any of us,” replies the assistant geneticist.

Xanatos approaches Talon.

“We might have to downscale operations here, in light of this incident,” he says. “would you like to move back to the castle?”

“The castle?” asks the pantherman mutate.

“Oh hell yeah!” exclaims Fang. “I’ll pack my bags tonight.”

“Someone’s excited,” replies Xanatos.

The tigerman mutate nods.

“I shall make the arrangements,” says Owen Burnett.

Oooooooooo

**December 13, 1995**

Once again, Fang rides inside a helicopter with the Xanatos Enterprises logo. The goon Talon is at the controls. The helicopter flies above the concrete canyons of Manhattan.

Castle Wyvern, sitting atop the Eyrie Building, appears to get closer and closer.

Soon, the landing gears of the helicopter rest upon the stone floor of the castle’s courtyard. The door opens and the four mutates are greeted by Owen.

“Welcome, ladies and gentlemen,” he says in this flat, monotone voice. “Your sleeping quarters have already been cleaned and prepared.”

“Thanks,” says Talon, stepping off the helicopter.

They walk into the Great Hall of the castle, which looks as magnificent as ever, especially the very expensive crystal chandelier.

“Ya know,” Fang says to the mute tigerman mutate. “You need a name.”

The tigerman shrugs. He then looks at his mutated hand. He extends claws from his fingertips.

“Paw,” says Maggie. “We can call him Paw.”

“No, ya junkie,” says Fang. “We can call him Claw.”

The newly christened mutate nods.

Ooooooo

“And that’s where I live,” says Fang. “Right there, in that castle.”

“Great to see ya again,” says Lou, sipping a Heineken that the cougarman mutate had brought. “You moved there just as I was released from Rikers. That Yale bitch who prosecuted me is so uptight.”

“Yeah, I’ve met her in the courtroom.”

“Say, are ya still bangin’ that hot chick from the lab?” asks Chaz.

“Sure,” says Fang. “she’s the best thing that ever happened in my life.”

“Ladies seem to want a fur coat, not a fur man,” says Lou.

“Any word on what’s been going on?” asks Fang.

“Ya know, the cops recaptured the Pack,” says Chaz.

“Really?” asks Fang. It had ben news back in Rikers. He recalls witnessing the man called Jackal encountering the Diet Police.

Oooooo

**_February 24, 1995_ **

_Several inmates walked through the cafeteria at Rikers. Most of the inmates, including Fred Sykes, kept their heads down, not wanting to attract the attention of this gang of inmates calling themselves the Diet Police._

_The Diet Police approached a man with long brown hair._

_“We know you’re from that show the Pack,” said one of them._

_“You want my autograph?” asked the man known as Jackal._

_“Actually, we want some of yer food. That’s a prime cut o’ beef ya got there, and we’re hungry.”_

_“It’s mine,” replied the former television star._

_The big man reached for the food, and suddenly Jackal grabbed him arm and snapped it, the sound echoing through the room! Two others from the Diet Police attacked the celebrity, and Jackal quickly took them down, sick crunches of bones heard._

_The whole cafeteria erupted in cheers._

_Fred Sykes just smiled._

Oooooooo

**December 13, 1995**

“Yeah, I remember seeing Jackal take down those Diet Police,” says Fang.

“They were just a bunch of pricks,” says Chaz.

“I heard some really weird shit about them,” says Lou. “Two of them like became cyborgs, an’ Wolf grew fur, just like Fred here.”

Fang’s ears perked up. “Oh, did he? It seems Doc Sevarius is expanding his business.”

“Anyway,” says Chaz. “we also heard that Tony Dracon was runnin’ a protection racket.”

“But there might be some competition.”

“Then it’s time for me to see what’s up.”

Oooooooo

 

**December 14, 1995**

For the second night in a row, Fang is one a rooftop, looking at the grand apartment building where Tony Dracon’s headquarters is. So far, very little has happened.

He sees a black bespectacled man in a green coat enter a sedan. Fang had followed the car before.

And he does so again, flying far above.

Dracon and his men may be looking out for helicopters, but not bat-cougar-eel-human mutates.

Aftger a few minutes, the limo stops. Looking through some binoculars, Fang sees the man called Glasses enter a place called Dave’s Ball and Stick. Glasses must be shaking down the owner of that place.

He wonders how long he will have to wait.

He then sees Glasses leave with a dark-haired woman; she wears a black jacket. Fang sees that she looks familiar.

Then memories from months ago surface. She is that goon Talon’s sister!

She goes into the car with Glasses, and then the car takes off.

Fang follows the sedan for about a minute, and then he sees something.

Two winged creatures attack. The car crashes into a lamppost.

It is those gargoyles!

Fang lands in an  alley not far. One of the goons from the car runs into this big blue gargoyle.

Fang is tempted to help out, to prove himself to Dracon’s men.

He sees Talon’s sister step out, and decides to stay hidden, but close enough to hear.

“I was fine until you came along!” the woman yells to the large lavender gargoyle holding up Glasses. “I told you to stop following me everywhere! What are you, a puppy?”

“Elisa, if they have some hold over you,” the gargoyle replies.

“Look, I’m going to make this real clear for you,” she says. “First, put him down.”

The gargoyle puts down Glasses.

“The other one too,” says the woman called Elisa.

The huge bluish gargoyle puts down the other goon.

“Now, I’m trying to do some business with these men. So why don’t you two run along. Get it? Leave me alone!”

Elisa gets into the car with glasses and the other goons. Fang climbs up a fire escape and flies off.

Half an hour later, he is back on the rooftop near Dracon’s apartment. He looks and sees Elisa speaking with tony Dracon himself. He sets aside his memory of his last personal encounter with Dracon; there is no point in dwelling on rejection.

Fang had seen enough. He flies back to the castle.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scarlett asks Fang for an unusual request.

**December 15, 1995**

Talon takes a minute to process what Fang had just told him.

His big sister, Elisa, is working with Tony Dracon’s gang.

“Yeah, I did some jobs for Dracon back in the day,” says the cougarman mutate. “I have to hand it for his crew; his goons figured out my real name even though I used an alias.”

He and the other mutates continue to eat breakfast in the small dining room near the kitchen inside Castle Wyvern.

“You know what’s interestin’?” asks Fang after swallowing a piece of smoked salmon prepared in a restaurant over a hundred stories below.

“What?” asks Talon, holding a piece of bacon in his hand.

“Those gargoyle things were working with her,” answers Fang. “It wouldn’t surprise me if they were the ones who blew up that store.”

Talon clenches a fist. “They’ve caused so much trouble.”

He can still remember that night, months ago. Dr. Anton Sevarius had been preparing to administer the antidote that would reverse his mutation.

He can remember the alarms.

He looked as the gargoyles burst in.

The vial with the antidote shattered on the floor.

The gargoyle kicked Sevarius into a tank where electric eels were swimming.

And Sevarius getting electrocuted to death.

Filled with pure rage, he swore the gargoyles would pay for this, even if it took his last breath.

Xanatos promised to find a cure for him and the others.

“That’s just so hard to believe,” says Maggie. “Your sister being corrupt.”

“I’ve got some readin’ to catch up on,” says Fang. He leaves the little dining room, passing the tigerman mutate they call Claw.

Ooooooooo

Dr. Scarlett Mallory enters the castle’s library. She had just met with Talon, Maggie, and Claw. Talon had told her Fang went into the library to catch on on reading.

She sees her cougarman lover reading a book.

“Whatcha reading?” she asks.

“A book on organized crime,” he replies.

“You into that genre?”

“What?” asks Fang, unfamiliar with the word. “I’m studying. I found my calling, and I’ve got to take my place.”

“In what?”

“In the criminal underworld, ya know, drugs, prostitution, gamblin’.”

“It’s a tough and deadly market.”

Fang stands up, flexing a furry bicep. “I’ve got the muscle to do this, and I have Xanatos as a connection. Freaky Freddy was just an errand boy, while Fang will be a kingpin, a big man, da boss!”

“You think the others would join your gang?”

“Maybe. But I got some buddies on the street.”

“Then you can start Monday,” says the assistant geneticist. “I want some alone time with my furry man.”

Ooooooooooo

The Game over screen appears on the Sony color television.

“This game is hard,” says Fang, putting down the Super Nintendo controller.

He and Scarlett are at her apartment. They have been playing the game _Mega Man 7_ by Capcom, published for the Super Nintendo Entertainment System. 

“I’d better record the password to save your progress,” says Scarlett, taking a piece of paper.

“Heard you went to Atlantic City last week,” says Fang.

“Yeah, Rachel and I had a girls’ weekend there.”

“any family? You know, to celebrate thanksgiving with.”

“I have my dad. I also have some distant relatives elsewhere in the country.”

“Maybe I could meet your dad.”

“Oh sure,” says Scarlett. “First thing he’s gonna wonder is why my man’s wearing a silly cat costume.”

“Cat costume?”

“Well, that’s what most people’s first impression. When we get to the illegal human experimentation…”

“That would be complication,” says Fang.

Neither of them had to say that there were people in really high places who would kill dozens just to cover it up.

“Enough of that,” says Scarlett. “Shall we get to the climax?”

“Sure,” replies Fang.

“what I want is your mutate cum all over me.”

She walks into her bedroom. A few seconds later, she walks out, her breasts and the rest of her body bare. Fang instantly hardens at the sight of his naked lover. She has a bottle in one hand.

“Clothes off,” she says.

Fang removes his shirt and his short, baring his furry body. Scarlett pours something from the bottle into her right hand. He can see that it is lotion.

He realizes what she is going to do.

Scarlett grabs holds of his erect, mutated penis. The very touch excites Fang even further. She begins stroking his manhood. It feels so great. Her hands are almost as great as her pussy!

Fang just stands there, enjoying the feeling of her delicate hands as they move up and down his lotioned dick.

“I’m not goin’ in ya pussy?” he asks.

“I want your jizz all over me,” replies his lover. “We have an entire weekend for you to be inside me.”

His heart races as she masturbates his cock. He realizes that she is doing all the work, that her vagina is not getting any action. He wanted to enter her, to be wrapped inside her feminine passage.

But this just feels so good.

He feels his fuck pole heating up as the jerking continues. He starts to sweat.

Scarlewtt can feel the heat and the throbbing against her hands. She strokes faster and faster, and her cunt starts dripping, even though it is not being penetrated.

“This is quite a workout,” she says. “I couild burn a lot of calories.”

“Faster,” grunts Fang. “Faster.”

And she goes faster. Fang soon feels that famialar surge in his balls, his very energies focusing there.

“Get ready,” he says, the pressure rising in his dick.

And then he ejaculates his mutate sperm all over Scarlett, with his semen going into her crimson red hair and all over her face and naked body.

“Oh yeah,” says Scarlett. “Give me more.”

His eruption lasts for over a minute. He grunts in pure pleasure as he ejaculates more and more seed.

Finally he is spent. He looks at Scarlett and her naked body is glistening- glistening with sticky mutate cum.

“I can’t imagine why I would want to take a shower again,” she says.

She walks to the kitchen, and then slips and falls.

“Are you all right?” he asks.

“Your cum’s very slippery,” she says.

He looks at her. Her legs are spread open, revealing her vulva, the entrance to her fuck sheath.

Fang is too spent to go into her.

But the next morning, his penis is wrapped inside her vagina, ejaculating his mutate seed.

Ooooo

**December 20, 1995**

It is a rather quiet night. Just a few days ago, Tony Dracon had been busted for extortion. Legal commentators had said that an indictment by a grand jury was virtually certain. The underworld is in flux.

And yet, while talking to Chaz and Lou on the rooftop, they all agreed they needed a better headquarters than some dilapidated building, if they wanted to take their rightful place.

Fang stands up. He had been exploring this thing called the Internet, accessed by computers. From what Scarlett had told him, it had been developed over a decade ago, and just recently became commercially available outside the universities and the U.S. national security establishment. Xanatos Enterprises had its own web site, only launched last year. Scarlett herself often made use of e-mail and online bulletin boards during her work.

The cougarman mutate leaves the library and walks up to the tallest tower in the castle. It is one of the best views, getting to see the whole of New York City. He wonders why Xanatos does not make guided tours available.

On the top of the tower, he sees that goon Talon.

“Somethin’ bugging you?” he ask.

“It’s..nothing,” replies the pantherman mutate.

“Well, Scarlett’s workin’ late again,” replies Fang. “I suppose I should be grateful for last weekend. Who knew a girl could have so much energy?”

“Look.”

Fang squints and sees some winged shape. He briefly wonders if that is Maggie or Claw.

“It’s them,” says Talon, looking through a pair of binoculars.

Claw walks up to the top and joins them.

Fang can see a winged creature gliding in, carrying a woman in a red jacket. He recognizes her as that cop and the goon’s sister, Elisa.

“Now!” commands Talon. “Fang! Claw! Attack!”

The three of them swoop down to attack the gargoyle.  A battle ensues in Wyvern’s courtyard, with the three mutates pounding on the gargoyle.

“Hold it right there!” yells the cop, pointing aSmith and Wesson at them. “Derek, we came to see you!”

Talon- the mutate Elisa had called Derek- zaps the huge lavender gargoyle, who falls. He is about to kill the gargoyle, despite the cop getting in the way.

And that junkie Maggie flies down to intervene. Talon demands that Maggie get out of the way.

Then David Xanatos emerges.

“I appreciate that you are protecting our home, Talon,” says the billionaire industrialist. “But Goliath and Elisa are always welcome here. They’re not the enemy.”

Fang looks on. First working with Dracon, and now Xanatos?

Then comes an argument. Talon recounts how Sevarius was about to give him the antidote when the gargoyles raided Gen-U-Tech Headquarters.

“Sevarius is dead,” says Talon, “along with our hopes of ever being human again.”

“Dead?” asks Elisa. “Nobody died that night.”

“I saw it!”

“With Xanatos involved, what you see isn’t always the truth.”

“Same song, same tune. Goliath has you snowed. He and Sevarius are both to blame, and he needs you to protect him from me!”

“Come, Elisa,” says the gargoyle called Goliath. “We’re not helping here.”

“Getting scared, monster?” asks Talon. “You should be. Sevarius is lucky that he’s dead. Watch your back, Goliath. She won’t always be there, and I’m coming for you.”

“But what if she’s right?” asks Maggie. “What if Sevarius is alive?”

“If he is,” says Talon, “he won’t be for long.”

“So yer gonna go after him?” asks Fang,.

“Of course,” replies the pantherman mutate. “I’m going over to Gen-U-Tech to check things out.”

“Well, someone as talented as Sevarius probably has protection. A _lot_ of protection. You know the Pentagon was bankrollin’ the whole project that mutated us. For all we know, Sevarius has a team of Navy SEALs protecting him!”

“Then they’ll die too.”

Talon then flies up and off into the night sky.

Fang looks at Maggie and Claw.

“I think I’m gonna order some food,” he says. “Anyone up for fried chicken?”

ooooooo

Dr. Scarlett Mallory sits inside her cubicle in Gen-U-Tech headquarters, typing up a report for the best explanation of the data that she collected. She takes another sip of coffee from the ceramic mug. Such is the work of lower level researchers. The assistant geneticist briefly wonders if Dr. Sevarius had similar experiences when he started his career.

The telephone rings.

“This is Dr. Mallory,” she says.

“It’s me, Fang,” says Fang. “I’m calling from the castle.”

“You want a sleep-over?”

“No, I got some news for you. Talon figured out yer boss is still alive.”

“What?”

“He’s flyin’ over to Gen-U-Tech right now. Just make sure you stay outta the way.”

“I guess we couldn’t keep this ruse up forever.”

“Scarlett,” says Dr. Rachel Weinberg, standing near her.

“They know the doc’s alive. One of them is coming here. We’d better stay out of the way.”

“You’re right. Let’s go.”

Ooooooo

Meanwhile, Fang and the others are enjoying their fried chicken dinner. Fang especially enjoys the texture and flavor of the skin.

“So, Claw, how do you like your chow?” asks Fang.

Claw does not answer.

“What’s the matter, cat got your tongue? Hahahaha.”

“You know he hasn’t spoken since the transformation,” says Maggie.

“Cat got his tongue? Don’t ya get it?”

Talon swoops in.

“the doctor’s death scene was nothing but an act,” he says. “and there’s no way he pulled it off without help.”

“so who are you thin kin’?” asks Fang.

“Who else. Goliath kicked him into the eel tank. He must be on in it.”

“I don;’t think so,” says Maggie.

“Like you’re some kind of expert on evil monsters.”

“It just seemed like the gargoyles were trying to help me,” says the leonine mutate. “when they took me to their home..”

“They took you to their home?” asks Talon.  


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things come to a head when Fang and the others confront the gargoyles.

**December 21, 1995**

Fang and the others are on a rooftop, looking at the clock tower above the 23rd NYPD precinct.

“It figures,” says the cougarman mutate. “They work with the cops, they sleep above a police station.”

He can still recall how the cops treated Freaky Freddy back in the day.

Claw nods his head, and Maggie flies to the balcony of the clock tower. Fang and Claw see her meet one iof the gargoyles- a brown-skinned creature.

It is time.

Opportun ities to pay back the police are few and far between, so Fang will savor this moment.

He and Claw knock down the gargoyle. A four-legged beast runs towards them, and Claw zaps the beast.

“I’m sorry,” says Maggie.

Soon, the gargoyle and the beast are tied in chains.

“I’m sorry,” Maggie says to the gargoyle.

Fang takes a closer look. The gargoyle seems to wear a vest. His face is similar to that of a human, and he has a beard.

“Why are ye here?” asks the gargoyle.

“Our mighty leader wants a few words with Goliath,” answers Fang.

“Then you’ll have a long wait. Goliath said he’ll be gone for a few nights.”

Fang pulls the gargoyle by the chains. “Sure he did. I guess I’ll have to clear my social calendar!”

About half an hour later, they hear voices.

“Look out lads!” yells the old gargoyle. “It’s a trap!”

“Welcome, home!” yells Fang. “Isn’t it past your bedtime?”

He flies in and attacks a small gargoyle. He then flies after this red, beaked gargoyle, firing electrical blasts.

The gargoyle glides towards the tower.

“Come back here an’ fight like a man!” yells Fang.

The gargoyle glides right into the cougarman mutate, knocking him to the ground.

Soon, Fang is chained up, inside the clock tower, with that strange beast looking as if he will pounce. He briefly wonders if he will be back at Rikers by dawn. At least the Diet Police would not dare mess with him, he thinks. He hears some conversation, with the red-brick gargoyle talking to Maggie.

Finally, the gargoyles unchain Fang, and unwrap the railing that had been used to restrain Claw.

“You’re free to go,” says the beaked gargoyle. “Return to Xanatos if you want. But don’t turn your back on him.”

They all fly back to Castle Wyvern, landing on a walkway atop one of the outer walls. Talon runs out the door from one of the towers and flies off.

“Where’s he off to?” asks Fang.

“I don’t know,” replies Maggie, “but he looks mad.”

They all fly after him.

Fang sees Talon land in an alley, and rip a grate off the surface. He and the others follow Talon underground.

None of them have no idea where Talon is going, but they figure it has something to do with Sevarius.

Soon, after running through some tunnels, they emerge in an underground complex of some sort.

Talon attacks the huge lavender gargoyle called Goliath. Dr. Anton Sevarius tries to escape, but Fang stops him and lifts him by his shirt.

“Bring Sevarius here,” says Talon. “They can die together.”

“No!” yells the cop called Elisa.

“Derek, you can’t!” yells Maggie.

“He won’t,” says Sevarius. He holds uop a vial. “This is the antidote. There’s only enough for one. But I can make more, enough for each of you. All I want in return is my safety, and my freedom.”

“I’m long past caring about your antidote,” says Talon.

“Me too,” says Fang. “I like this body.”

He flexes his arms. He doubts Scarlett would have shared herself with Freaky Freddy.

“I just want to see you pay for your crimes,” says Talon.

“What about what we want?” asks Maggie. “Please, Derek, is your vengeance more important than our humanity?”

“Give it to her,” says the mutate she called Derek.

“Why let her take it?” asks Sevarius. “you deserve it more.”

“What do you care?” asks Fang, taking the vial and tossing it to Maggie.

“Good question,” says Elisa. “If he’s gonna make enough for everyone, why should he care who takes it first? “

“she’s right,” says Talon. “That’s not a cure, it’s poison. He wants me out of the way!”

“No!” yells Maggie. “It is a cure. It has to be!”

“Of course it’s a cure,” protests Sevarius. “you must trust me!”

“I think that ship has sailed, Doctor.”

Fang wonders who that is. Did the military swoop in to rescue Sevarius?

He sees some robots that look like that gargoyle named Goliath. One of them is red in color.

The red one removes its head and reveals the face of David Xanatos.

And he hears these words.

“He’s the scientist,” says Xanatos. “You’re the experiment.”

Xanatos and his robots leave with Sevarius.

“you know,” says Sevarius as he is leaving, “that could be a vial of poison, only one way to find out.”

Fang figures out Scarlett could take a look at it.

“He’s just trying to scare us,” says Maggie.

“Maggie, no!” yells Talon.

“Don’t you see? Sevarius doesn’t want his experiment to end, but this is the cure!”

“You don’t know that! The risk is too great!”

“any risk is better than living as a monster.”

“I’m a monster.”

“But you’re strong, stronger than me. I can’t live this way!”

“I couldn’t either, not without you. Maggie, we’re not strong alone. We’re strong together.”

“What do we do now?” she asks.

“Return with me to the clock tower,” says Goliath. “Join my clan.”

Fang’s mutated ears perk up. The gargoyle is asking him to work with the cops? Would the NYPD really look over his criminal record?

“You would accept us?” asks Talon. “After how I’ve treated you?’

“Elisa is already part of our clan. That makes you all family.”

“Thank you, Goliath,” replies Talon. “But it seems I have my own clan. And my own family.”

“So, we’re gonna live here?” asks Fang.

“Yes.”

The cougarman mutate smiles. This place, this old underground facility, will be a nice headquarters for his new clan.

A clan that will control organized crime in New York- no, organized crime on the eastern seaboard!


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How will Fang and the others deal with life in this underground place that they call the Labyrinth?

**December 22, 1995**

 

 “So you really want to invite bums to live with you,” says Lou.

“Yes,” replies Talon. “We want to give them a place of refuge while they rebuild their lives.”

Lou and Chaz had decided to meet with Talon in the underground complex once used by Cyberbiotics, Incorporated, upon vbeing invited by their friend Fang.

“But people will find out about ya,” says Chaz.

“We can’t hide from the world forever.”

“I guess it could be good press for you guys,” says Lou. “I mean, you furries need to have a better public face than Wolf.”

Talon frowns. He had heard about the upgrades of the Pack, former television stars turned wanted criminals, upgrades that included cybernetic enhancements for Jackal and Hyena, and genetic mutation for Wolf. Of course, the man behind Pack’s upgrades had managed to cover up his role in upgrading the Pack.

“We can start recruiting some homeless people right now,” says Chaz.

He and Lou leave to find some homeless people, glancing back at Fang.

They are one step closer to their goal.

Oooooooo

A man wearing a flat cap on his head, eyeglasses on his face, and a trench coat over a white shirt rides inside an elevator in the Eyrie Building. Beside the man is Owen Burnett.

Soon, the elevator doors open, and Owen leads the visitor through the stone hallways of Castle Wyvern. The man with the flat cap looks impressed, recalling when he first heard about the castle being rebuilt atop this skyscraper in New York.

He soon reaches a large office, with a window revealing a view of the southern part of Manhattan.

“Mr. Xanatos,” says Owen, “Agent Hacker from the FBI is here.”

Martin hacker shows his Federal Bureau of Investigation credentials.

“Leave us,” says David Xanatos, sitting behind the desk. Owen promptly leaves.

Hacker reveals a pin with a pyramid, and a triangular eye above the pyramid.

“Number Thirty-Two,” he says.

Xanatos reveals an identical pin. “Number Thirty-Six.”

Hacker stays silent for a minute.

“Just what the fuck were you thinking in making Derek Maza a test subject!” he yells.

Xanatos’s eyes widen for less rthan a second, then the billionaire industrialist regains his composure. “He was the best man to lead the squad of mutates,” he says. “They needed the leader and considering all factors, he was the most qualified.”

“The other test subjects had no close family,” says the FBI agent. “There was no one to care if they disappeared. Mr. Maza had family living right here in New York.”

“I needed a healthy test subject. The ones on the streets had significant health issues, due to spending years on the streets.”

“None of those health issues included having close family with local law enforcement connections! In case I have to remind you, Xanatos, his sister’s partner used to be my old partner in the Bureau, who was crazily obsessed with exposing the Illuminati!

“Exposing your role to the public was being considered by the Society’s leadership. What happened compromised our goals. Anton Sevarius may not be one of us, but he and his line of research are greatly important to our long-term plans, and we _will_ protect him, even if it means sacrificing you.

“I have been told there are threats, threats that we can not even imagine. Genetic augmentation is one of the tools we need to deal with these threats. Sevarius must continue his research.”

Hacker stays silent for a minute. Xanatos uses all of his mental effort to appear calm.  

“Our leadership has decided to keep you in play, to cover up your role,” says Hacker.  “Make no mistake, Xanatos. You owe us big time.”

Hacker turns around and walks to the door of the office. He then turns around.

“One more thing,” says the FBI agent. “If Derek Maza- or any of the test subjects- comes looking to kill you, you’re on your own.”

After Hacker leaves, Xanatos sits at his desk, his hands clasped together.

Oooooo

“This is the place?” asks Al, looking at the plain-looking warehouse.

“It’s the main entrance,” says Chaz. “CyberBiotics used to transport their employees here.”

“Yeah, there’s still electricity here, and runnin’ water,” says Lou.

Al had known Lou and Chaz while living on the streets for months. They step inside the huge, empty warehouse, which has a corner office that had once been used by security. Lou opens a door on the side.

“Elevator’s not runnin’,” says Lou. “Got to take the stairs.”

Al descends the metal stairs. He then goes through a door and into a hallway. He walks down the hallway for a few seconds before emerging in this wide open chamber. There are balconies along the walls.

He sees a winged figure approaching him. The head is like that of a panther. Black fur covers the skin, and he wears some sort of green vest. The hands are humanoid, while the feet are more catlike. Two batlike wings are attached behind the shoulders.

“Call me Talon,” says the winged figure.

“Name’s Al,” says the homeless man. “Is that a costume?”

“No.”

“So I can stay here.”

“Consider this your place of refuge,” says the pantherman.

Al looks around. “I would like to help you build.”

He briefly reflects on his life. For so many years, he has been drifting around, either begging or doing the occasional odd job for some cash. Now he has an opportunity, an opportunity to be part of something bigger again.

Al smiles.

 

Oooooooo

**December 24, 1995**

“You sure managed to spruce up this place a lot,” says Dr. Scarlett Mallory, looking around this underground complex now called the Labyrinth, now adorned qwith all sorts of deocrations like wreaths and a heavily-deocrated Christmas tree.

She can see plenty of shabbily dressed people in here, from old men and women who lived on the streets for years, to teen runaways. She also knows that Fang, Lou, and Chaz recruited some people they knew from Rikers Island.

“Yeah, it was easy to get the bums to help,” says Fang. “I mean, a lot of them were tired of begging for change on the streets. It’s not that most bums are lazy; they just haven’t found opportunity.”

Fang reflects on those words, knowing that what he had said applies to him most of all.

“And these people will have a warm place to sleep for Christmas,” says Maggie.

“I might as well celebrate Christmas Even with you,” says Scarlett. “I’m going home to Cherry Hill tomorrow.”

“Glad to see you have a good time,” says Chaz.

“Thanks,” replies Scarlett.

“Ya know,” says Lou, “we were thinkin’. Once some of the ladies here get cleaned up and SHIT, maybe we can hook up with ‘em.”

“Maybe you should clean yerself first before tellin’ the ladies to clean themselves,” says Fang, visibly sniffing the air.

“Well, we are still getting’ used to the fact that we can take a shower without worryin’ who’s behind us,” says Chaz.

The cougarman mutate looks to his left. He can see Talon speaking with the two New York City police detectives- he had learned their names are Elisa Maza and Matt Bluestone. He had also heard that they took down Tony Dracon.

At least those gargoyle things are not here; the NYPD apparently still wants to keep them a secret.

Did they want to control the criminal underworld?

Will he have to work with them?

Or take them out?

As of now, there is no bad blood between him and them.

Fang feels Scarlett’s hand stroking the fur next to his jaw.

“Anythin’ bugging you?” she asks.

“Just thinking about the future.”

“You can think of the future when the sun rises on December 26th. I did bring some mistletoe.”

Mistletoe is a parasitic plant with waxy leaves, often growing on the branches of trees, drawing water and many nutrients from the host tree’s tissues. While mistletoe berries are edible by many species of birds, they are poisonous to humans.

Scarlett holds up a sprig of mistletoe over her head. She and Fang kiss.

Ooooooo

Fang and Scarlett continue the Christmas Eve celebration in the living room in her apartment in Greenwich Village. They eagerly take off each other’s clothes, revealing their naked bodies. The vety sight of their nakedness arouses them both.

“I’m jealous,” says Scarlett.

“You want the natural coat for winter?” asks Fang.

“You have better eyes. You can see my nakedness better than I can see yours.” She reaches out and holds his mutated penis, playing with it and causing his manhood to throb and harden even more.

She then gets down on her arms and legs, spreading her thigs slightly. The mutate cougarman looks at his woman from he behind. He can see her cuntal lips spread apart, revealing her vagina.

He kneels down, grabs her hips, and plunges his dick inside.

It feels so good.

He pulls and pushes on her hips, sliding the vaginal walls of her pussy against his cock. He grunts with every thrust. Scarlett moans with pleasure as her bare, smooth skin starts to sweat. Her feminine canal lights up with each thrust, like how roller coasters rise and fall.

Fang breathes heavily as he pulls and pushes on her hips, her feminine folds rubbing against his fuck pole. Not even the thought of being a drug kingpin over the entire eastern seaboard of North America can compare to her most intimate sheath rubbing against his rock hard coital tool.

Scarlett feels Fang’s hand squeezing and jiggling  her tits. She savors every touch even as she feels him inside her fuck sheath.

The thrusts continue.

Her crimson-red hair hangs down.

They can not see each other’s faces.

Their hearts race.

Her cunt squeezes his boner real hard.

His balls feel so tight.

Their pressure rises.

He explodes his seed inside her, flooding her womb with his hot mutate juices. He continues to ejaculate again and again.

It is well over five minutes before his nuts are spent.

The male cougarman mutate finally pulls out of the human female. Sticky, slimy mutate cum trickles out of her cunt and down her thighs.

“I never had a better Christmas present,” says Scarlett.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. What are Fang and Scarlett planning?

**December 25, 1995**

Scarlett places a piece of deep-fried turkey in her mouth, making sure to savor the moistness. She sits on a chair with a high back, with finely-varnished wooden armrests. The table likewise is fully varnished. The floor is covered in white tiles. Not far away is a kitchen with tiled counters and an island likewise covered in tiles.

It is a much more luxurious environment than the Labyrinth.

Like every Christmas, she had chosen to spend this Christmas in her childhood home in Cherry Hill, New Jersey.

“Anyone special?” asks her dad, wearing a sweater vest over a white shirt.

“Maybe,” replies his daughter.

“A fellow scientist at this Gen-U-Tech place?”

“No, Dad. He…he was a test subject. For this drug being developed for the military.”

“I see.” Her dad knows better than to not inquire further on what is likely a classified project requiring top secret clearance.

And his daughter wishes she could come up with an explanation.

“Still, it is amazing that you would choose to be employed as a researcher even though you have that trust fund. Most girls would just blow their trust funds on parties.”

“I wanted to do something with all that learning,” says Scarlett, sipping a glass of wine.

“There is this really big business hotshot in New York. His daughter could have just been a socialite, going to parties and clubs in fancy dresses, looking for  a man. She went into the Air Force, becoming a chopper pilot. She actually flew combat missions during the Gulf War almost five years ago.”

“While I work with genetics and experimental drugs,” says Scarlett.

After dinner, Scarlett walks into her childhood bedroom. It looks pretty much the same as it did fifteen years ago, with the white walls, the white shelf-desk combo with all sorts of stuffed animals, and the bed with the canopy serving as the centerpiece.

It IS a room where, during her teen years, she would often spend late afternoons crying.

She looks at some magnetic cassette tapes. Grabbing one of them, she inserts one into a boom box that she had since she was thirteen. The Teac boombox starts playing what she considers on of the best Christmas songs.

_It was December 24th on Hollis Avenue in the dark_

_  
When I see a man chilling with his dog in the park_

_  
I approached very slowly with my heart full of fear_

_  
Looked at his dog, oh my god, an ill reindeer_

 

Oooooooo

_My name's D.M.C. with the mic in my hand_

_  
And I'm chilling and coolin’ just like a snowman_

_  
So open your eyes, lend us an ear_

_  
We want to say Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!_

The music video for “Christmas in Hollis” by Run D.M.C. ends.

 

“This is one of the best songs ever created to celebrate the Christmas season,” says Quincy Hemmings, having looked at the 36-inch color television screen.

 

“It definitely brings out the joy,” says Mr. Duval.

 

Duval looks at Hemmings- an elderly man with tightly-curled white hair and black skin, wearing a white tuxedo. He had known this man for so many decades, working together to further the Society’s goals.

 

“How is the White House, Hemmings?” asks Peredur fab Ragnal.

 

“The Christmas spirit is with the family there,” replies Hemmings. “I saw the tree lit up on the White House lawn.”

 

Hemmings looks at the two men whom he had known for decades. Fab Ragnal and Duval have been friends longer than any people he knew. No one at the White House would believe him if he mentioned just how long the two men knew each other.

 

“I myself have seen the Pentagon Christmas parties,” says Duval., “been to a few of them, with the military personnel dressed in their dress uniforms with all the medals and decorations.”

 

“This place is what UI always considered home,” says Ragnal. “Remember when we first installed indoor plumbing and a water filtration system?”

 

The three of them are having their own little Christmas gathering; they are in this room with stone walls, with the pyramid-eye emblem of the Illuminati Society embroidered in banners hanging on the walls.

 

“Some of Quincy’s predecessors can tell stories,” continues Ragnal. “In fact, his predecessor actually rubbed shoulders with Benjamin Disraeli way back when.”

 

“He was to Queen Victoria what Merlin was to King Arthur,” says Duval, “Except as far as we know, Disraeli wasn’t a sorcerer.”

 

“And we know where Disraeli’s grave is,” says Quincy. “No one ever found Merlin’s grave.”

 

“He could be alive,” says Peredur.

 

“What if he is?” asks Duval. “We do have enough wild cards as it is.”

 

“Let’s not worry about that,” says Hemmings. “We can talk business stuff tomorrow. Right now, let’s just have fun, okay?”

 

Almost all of the membership of the Illuminati Society, even those as high as the mid-teens, believe the Society is some sort of mutual scratch-each-others’-backs organization, bartering favors. Only the highest echelons know the long-term goals and plans of the Society, goals and plans that few from tiers 15-36 would understand.

 

But these plans and goals could wait until the morning of December 26th, 1995.

 

Now it is a time to be thankful.

 

And to remember those who could not be here.

 

Despite their differences, _he_ should be here with them.

 

“Agreed,” says Peredur. “Only Queen Mab escaping from her prison will stop us.”

 

oooooooooo

**December 31, 1995**

Times Square.

The streets converging into Times Square have been closed off. Instead of cars, the streets are packed with pedestrians, all in heavy winter gear. Billboards count down to the year 1996. The McDonald’s golden arch still shines. Dick Clark, a TV host who was on many shows like American Bandstand and the $100,000 Pyramid, hosts this particular event, as he had since 1972.

Up above on a rooftop, Fang and Scarlett watch. Fang wears a heavy wool vest over his torso.and long pants over his legs. Scarlett wears a heavy long coat with a hood, concealing her crimson red hair.

“I  can’t imagine being down there,” says the assistant geneticist, “being squeezed tightly together.”

“Yeah,” replies Fang. At least the body heat is keepin’ them warm.”

“I’m glad to be here. You know, I’m being assigned to this research facility in Bosnia.”

The cougarman mutate’s ears perk up. “Where is that?”

“Southeastern Europe. I have a few weeks.”

Fang is no expert in geography, but he knows that Scarlett is going far, far away. The future seems a bit dimmer.

“Going away, eh,” he says. “It’s been two months. It is just so hard to believe it hasn’t been that long. I could barely remember life without ya.”

“Reassignment to Bosnia’s only temporary,” she says. “I’ll be back. Of course, maybe I can ask if they can bring you with me.”

“To Bosnia?”

Fang gazes up at the night sky, and then at the crowds below.

“Going with you to Bosnia is what Freaky Freddy would do,” he says. “You fell in love with Fang. As Fang, I will make my dreams come true.”

Scarlett looks into his catlike eyes, the pupils wide because it is night. She had heard about what Fang wants to build in the Labyrinth.

She kisses him on the lips, feeling the heat on this very cold night.

The billboard counts down.

Dick Clark gets the crowd excited.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

“Happy New Year!” yells Fang and Scarlett, sipping champagne that they had brought with them, as the ball drops. For a few minutes, the two lovers hold each other.

“How about we go someplace warmer?” asks Scarlett.

“Yeah,” replies Fang.

Minutes later, they are at her apartment, where they can finish celebrating the new year. The air feels so warm, as the temperature is in the low seventies.

They soon shed their coats and their wool vests. This is followed by her dress, his shirt and shorts.

And finally their underwear, leaving them completely naked and exposed.

Their hearts race in anticipation.

They breathe quickly.

Their heartbeats magnifiy when they touch.

Their heartbeats magnify further when they kiss.

The two of them start dancing in her bedroom. Fang’s dick hardens even further.

“You definitely improved your dancing,” says Scarlett.

They fall onto her bed, with him on top of her, and the glans of his cock touching her smooth skin, causing his male organ to become harder than diamond. Scarlett spreads her bare thighs apart, exposing her vulva.

It is all that is needed for Fang to go into her, his penis plunging into her vagina. For a minute he enjoys the feeling of her feminine canal wrapped around his mutated manhood. Her fuck sheath starts to secrete lubricant.

He then begins a series of gentle thrusts in and out of the woman, with Scarlett savoring each thrust as his dick slides against the walls of her pussy, assisted by her feminine juices. Her tits jiggle as he continues his thrusts.

The sweat soon covers her whole body.

The sweat wets his brown fur.

She moans as the very core of her femininity lights up.

He grunts with each thrust.

Their feelings rise up.

The bed squeaks as they got at it, as he ruts in her like an animal.

It is almost climax time. Fang can feel the pressure in his nuts.

“Happy New Year!” yells Fang as he ejaculates his mutate sperm out of his penis, coating Scarlett’s womb with his man juice.

The male eruption continues as his cock fucks her cunt.

After a few minutes, he is spent, and they simply lay together in bed, ready to take on the challenges of 1996.

Oooooooooo

**January 1, 1996**

Cedric climbs up the steel ladder and opens the grate, emerging to an alley outside. Behind him, the two men who call themselves Lou and Chaz climb up after him.

And then Fang flies up.

Fang puts on a long coat over his torso, as well as a wool hat over his head and a scarf over his felinoid face.

“I’ll take you to Big Mike,” says  Cedric.

The four of them walk along the sidewalk, crossing a street. There are only a few people out ion this cold winter day, they all think of Fang aas just a man fully covering himself for the winter.

Walking into an alley, they see a black Cadillac. A big man, wearing a purple suit and a gold chain, steps out.

“Big Mike,” calls out Cedric.

“Yo, Cedric,” says Big Mike, stepping out of the driver’s seat. Fang, Lou, and Chaz can hear the song “Nothing but a G Thang,” by Dr. Dre playing on the car’s stereo, the sound waves reaching them through the open window.

Fang removes his scarf and hat. He notices Big Mike does not step back.

“The name’s Fang,” says Fang.

“Big Mike,” replies Big Mike. “Cedric here says you want to do business with us.”

“I understand you’re in the pharmaceutical industry,” says Fang.

“that’s one way of putting it.”

“Well, we have this underground facility where you can stash your drugs- a safehouse. Here’s the thing, Big Mike. It’s underground. There are many hidden entrasnces. Yopuir dealers can pick up the stash. The cops’ll never figure it out.”

“Famous last words, Mr. Fang,” says Big Mike.

“It’s true,” says Cedric. “I saw the whole thing.”

Cedric describes the Labyrinth, recalling how huge the place was, at least three times the size of a penthouse overlooking Central Park. The place recently became a shelter for bums, all shabbily dressed. Cedric himself made sure to wear a shabby overcoat and some really old clothing, though of course he made sure to incorporate his gang colors.

The strangest things were those catlike people with wings. He had thought they were just wearing costumes.

This is certainly his strangest experience ever since stomping some bum at twelve years old as part of his gang initiation.

“I definitely trust Cedric here,” says Big Mike. “He’s one of my best homies. I’m bribing his probation officer. That’s how much how good he is, dawg.”

“We’ll definitely do business,” says Fang.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fang makes his move to seize control of the Labyrinth. Will he succeed?

**January 4, 1996**

Al keeps running and running along the abandoned subway tunnel, with Lou and Chaz chasing him. Al trips and falls. The two men hold him.

Fang walks to Al. He looks at the man- white hair and beard, dressed in a long coat.

It is time to collect overdue rent.

“Where’re you runnin’ to, Al?” asks the cougarman mutate. “Don’t tell me you forgot to bring a present for your old buddy Fang.” Lou and Chaz throw al towards him.  Come one, whatcha got for me? A jelly donut? A boom box? The Sunday sports section? What?”

“Wait, wait,” says Al. The homeless man reaches into his coat with his gloved hands and takes out a few coins.

“Coins?” asks Fang, putting the palm of his hand on his furry forehead. He growls. “Take a look at me, Al. Do I look like the kind of guy who can waltz into a store and plunk down change for a pack of bubble gum?!” He picks up Al and throws him against the wall. “Well, do I, Al? Do I?” He fires electrical blasts at the old man.

Lou and Chaz cheer him on.

Suddenly, Fang glances and sees a winged figure glide towards him and is soon knocked to the ground.

It is one of those gargoyle things. Fang had tangled with this particular  gargoyle weeks ago, recognizing the red-brick skin and the beak-like face. Lou and Chaz join in to fight the gargoyle.

Talon comes in, and picks up Lou and Chaz.

“Enough!” yells the pantherman mutate. “Brooklyn, what’s going on here?”

Fang’s ears perk up. Brooke Lynne?

“Hey, heyTalon,” says Fang. “I was just minding my own business when this creep jumps me.”

“You call shaking down a helpless human minding your own business?” retorts the gargoyle called Brooke Lynne.

“I told you before,” Talon says to Fang. “Everyone is welcome here in the Labyrinth. And the weak are to protected, not exploited.”

Protecting the weak was certainly not Fang’s experience. Where he went to school, weak boys like Freaky Freddy were pounded on. And he can still remember what Scarlett told him about her girlhood in Cherry Hill.

The weak are never protected, regardless of what the goon had said.

“Who died and made you king?” mutters the cougarman mutate.

“Down here, nobody’s king. Understood?”

“Yeah.” Talon walks a few feet away. “Right,” Fang mutters.

Talon walks down the tunnel with that freeloader , that junkie Maggie, and the gargoyle Brooke Lynne.

“I’ll show him who rules down here,” says Fang, glancing at Lou, Chaz, and the mute tigerman Claw.

Talon’s statement of protecting the weak incites memories to surface.

Ooooooooo

**_1980_ **

_Fred Sykes hid inside a closet in the room, but the door was opened._

_A man in a blue uniform faced him._

_“Come on,” he said. “I’m here to take you to school.”_

_“No!” cried Fred. “I don’t wanna go to school!”_

_“You have to.”_

_“No. They keep picking on me and hitting me.”_

_“The law says you have to go to school. You’ve been truant for over a week.”_

_Fred calmed down, preparing to reason with the cop. “Okay,” he said. “Can you protect me in school?  I’ll go if you promise to protect me.”_

_“That’s not my job,” replied the cop. “I’m here to take you to school.”_

_“I don’t wanna go! Those boys will beat me up.”_

_The cop picked up the 11-year-old boy. “Maybe they wouldn’t pick on you if you weren’t such a fuckin’ faggot. Do you want to go to juvie, you little punk? ‘Cause I know that they’ll ream your ass if we send you to juvie.”_

_An hour later, Fred was back at school, that place of torment._

_It was not long before he was surrounded by those boys._

_“We heard the cops brought you back here to us, Freaky Freddy,” said one of the boys._

_“You can’t hide from us,” sneered another boy. “The cops made sure of that.”_

_“Let’s teach Freaky Freddy a lesson.”_

ooooooooo

He and the others decide to walk back to the part of the Labyrinth  called the Commons.

He soon arrives there in a minute. The Commons has various furniture like tables and chairs.

And he overhears something interesting.

Elisa, the police detective who is Talon’s sister, is missing.

“You think Xanatos is behind this?” Talon asks Brooke Lynne.

“Wouldn’t surprise me,” says Fang. “Think about it. “First he turns us into flying bug zappers,. Then he tries to trick you into bumping Goliath off.” He puts his hand around Talon’s shoulder. “And hey, let’s face it, Talon. He’s always hated your sister.”

“I’ll make this slime talk,” says Talon. The goon heads off.

“Talon, wait!” yells Brooke Lynne, running after Talon.

“Why did you provoke him?” asks Maggie. “If he goes after Xanatos in that state, he’s liable to get himself killed.”

“Oooh,” says Fang, clasping his hands together. “Wouldn’t that be a cryin’ shame?”

Ooooooooo

**January 5, 1996**

Fang is roused from his sleep. For a moment he wonders if Scarlett was down here, wanting some quality alone time with him. His felinoid eyes focus and he sees a human head with short-cropped black hair.

“You’d better have a good excuse if you don’t want to be fried,” he says.

“You won’t be disappointed,” says Lou.

Fang looks at a wall-mounted clock; it reads about 4:30 in the morning.

“Oh, all right,” says the cougarman mutate. He puts on shorts and a sleeveless white shirt. He walks to where Claw is sleeping and rouses him awake.

“There’s somethin’ we need to see,” says Fang.

Soon, he, Lou, Chaz, and  Claw walk along an old subway tunnel.

“So, anyway,” says Lou, “Me and Chaz were checkin’ out the tunnels, like, lookin’ around for stuff. So we start diggin’ an d find this.”

They arrive at a spot in the tunnel where some of the wall appeared to have collapsed. There is apparently a steel wall built behind the brick wall, and there is a steel door.

“And we figure, you guys could go,” continues Lou, moving his flashlight back and forth.

“Yeah yeah yeah yeah,” says Fang. “I get the picture. I get the picture! Let’s do it, Claw.”

He and the tigerman mutate blast the door with their electricity. Soon, it collapses, revealing the opening.

The mutates and Lou and Chaz go through. The two men shine flashlights.

They all just see old electrical equipment.

But Fang notices something else. “Wait!” he calls out. “Come here. Come here. Go back. What was that?”

They all see a cylindrical metal container. There is a glass door, and behind the glass the four of them can clearly see weapons.

“Oh, cool,” says Chaz.

“Yeah, they kind of look like some space age blasters or somethin’,” says Lou.

Fang pushes them aside. He tries to pull on the door, but it will not budge even with his great cougar-like strength. He tries to zap it, but the container reflects his electricity, causing the bolt to fry some of the leftover equipment on the steel shelves.

“You stupid!” yells Fang, banging on the door in frustration. He then see some sort of plastic rectangular thing dangling in front of him.

He turns his head and sees Claw.

“Give me that,” says Fang, taking the keycard. He slides it through a card reader on the cylinder, causing a green LED to light, and the door to unlock.

“All right, boys!” yells Fang. “The store is open!”

Claw, Lou, and Chaz each grab a rifle. Fang notices Claw is holding the rifle more professionally, then remembers that Claw is a United States Army Reserve veteran who fought in Operation Desert Storm nearly half a decade ago. Fang picks up the container.

“Ya never know when somethin’ like this might come in handy,” he says.

oooooooooo

 

Fang stands in front of a steel door. He sees Talon flying through the tunnel.

“So, the king finally returns to his little domain,” says Fang.

“Open up, Fang,” replies the pantherman mutate. “I’m not in the mood.”

“Open the door, Fang,” the cougarman mutate sarcastically retorts. “Protect the weak, Fang. Oh, Fang, this. Oh, Fang, that. For someone who’s not in charge, you sure like dishing out orders.”

“Please open the door, Fang,” says Talon. “It’s been a long night and I’m very tired.”

“Yeah, you’re tired all right. Tired and weak!”

The cougarman mutate shoves Talon.

“That’s why I’m taking over!” Fang continues.

“Yeah, right,” says Talon. “You and what army?”

“This army, pal.”

The door is opened, and Talon sees Lou, Chaz, and Claw, all holding rifles.

“And you’re our first prisoner of war,” says Fang.

Oooooooo

Fang looks at that goon Talon as the pantherman mutate is trapped in the container. He had earlier grabbed Maggie Reed and shoved her into there. Talon, not surprisingly, did not support Fang’s takeover, and there was a brief fight. Maggie managed to get away, but the cougarman mutate is not worried.

It is broad daylight outside.

He looks at Talon.

“Here’s a little secret,” he says. “I knew Sevarius was alive long before you did. Now, it’s time for me to meet with Xanatos.”

He nods towards Chaz, Lou, and Claw.

Oooooooo

“So what happened to yer hand?” asks Fang, as he rides in the elevator.

“It was a workplace accident,” replies that nerd, Owen Burnett.

Owen looks pretty much the same as he did before, with his blond hair, spectacles, black coat, white collared shirt, red necktie. The most obvious difference is his left hand, which is now a stone fist.

“I’m lucky your boss is willing to spare some time to see me,” says Fang. “Though I guess it’s because of Talon and that gargoyle Brooke Lynne going after him last night.”

Fang walks through some familiar hallways before he arrives at the office of David Xanatos. The billionaire industrialist himself sits behind the desk.

“Mr. Sykes,” says Xanatos.

Fang glances up and sees a hole in the ceiling. “They sure did damage,” says the cougarman mutate.

“Welcome. How are things with Scarlett?”

“They’re great. I hear she’s being assigned to Bosnia for six months.”

“Yes, Gen-U-Tech is helping some of the war refugees there. Do you want to come back here? I can prepare your old room by tonight.”

“Okay, the digs I had here were much nicer than the Labyrinth, but the Labyrinth is my own place, ya know. Especially since I and some guys took over.”

“Took over?” asks Xanatos.

“An intriguing development, sir,” says Owen.

“I trapped Talon in this high-tech container,” says Fang. “Now I’m in charge.”

“So you are just telling me you don’t want to work for me?” asks Xanatos.

“I want to be my own man, not an errand boy. But me and my crew, we can provide services for you. To show my worth, we can give Talon to you. I’m sure Gen-U-Tech can use an extra test subject.”

“Indeed.”

“Maybe you can mutate him again. He’ll make a great garden slug.”

“Sir, I can arrange to pick up Talon from the Labyrinth tomorrow morning,” says Owen.

“Good,” replies the billionaire industrialist. He looks towards the cougarman mutate. “We look forward to doing business with you.”

“Thank you.” Fang walks out and leaves the office.

“Why did you tell Sykes we were going to pick up Talon tomorrow?” Xanatos asks Owen.

“We can trust Mr. Sykes to look after his own interests, sir,” answers Owen. “We need to find out if we can trust his competence to keep control of the Labyrinth.”

Ooooooo

The shabbily-dressed girls line up. A woman in her early twenties, wearing a short skirt and a low-cut blouse, looks at them.

“This is a better place for most of ya,” she says. “You get food and water an’ hot showers an’ air conditionin’ and heat. But we don’t want no freeloaders here.”

She walks, inspecting each girl.

“I know y’all look better once we get better clothes for y’all. Y’all will get fucked by men in exchange for cash. Don’t worry; we’ll let you keep a quarter of it. You can spend it on drugs or booze or real estate. Not my business, and not Mr. Fang’s business.”

“What if we don’t want to?” asks a freckle-faced girl.

“Well, you can pack yer bags and go home. You ain’t no prisoners here, unlike Mr. Talon.” She looks at the girl. “But you don’t like home that much, otherwise you’d be there instead of underground with some bums. Lemme guess. Yer pussy waz getting fucked by yer daddy or yer stepdaddy or whoever your momma was shackin’ with.”

The freckle-faced girl bows her head, not able to dispute what she had just heard.

“Listen,” continues the woman, “I started takin’ off my panties and spreadin’ my thighs an’ cunt lips for money when I was twelve. And I understand if you feel it’s exploitation. I mean, I arrive with my cunt, he arrives with his money, and I leave with both my cunt and his money.”

“Wow, Jolene,” says Fang. “Ya know, I never thought of it this way.”

“I’ve had to do this before to survive,” says another girl. “I can do it again. At least it’s safer here.”

“We only accept the strong,” Fang says to the girls. “And strong girls are not freeloaders or deadbeats. You can do this, all of you. I have complete faith.”

A boy, about fifteen years of age, approaches Fang.

“I can help,” he says.

“Yer gonna bend over for queers, kid?” asks the cougarman mutate.

“No, sir. I mean, I know how to make meth.”

“Math? You volunteerin’ to be our CPA?”

“Not math, meth. Short for methamphetamines. It’s this drug. A lot of people can get hooked. I can cook it up from common chemicals. A lot of profit.”

Fang smiles. Things are going so well for him.

Ooooooo

That goon Talon tries zapping his way out of the container.

But it had been very strongly constructed to resist even his electrical blasts.

“Aww, what’s the matter, Talon?” asks Fang. “Feelin’ a little cooped up? You feelin’ a little claustrophobic? How do you like being a lowly subject?”

“I never claimed to be in charge,” replies the pantherman mutate. “I thought we could all work together! We still can!”

“And do what?” asks Fang. “Babysit a bunch of worthless deadbeats?” He looks to a crowd of people. “Well, I got a hot news flash for you buckaroos. There’s a new sheriff in town!”

Lou and Chaz fire the particle beam weapons at the ground near the crowd.

“From now on, you all follow _my_ orders!”

Suddenly, there is a loud noise. Fang looks up and sees those gargoyles,. Including the one called Brooke Lynne.

He, Lou, and Chaz fire their weapons at the gargoyles. There is a battle.

Fang soon wrests with Brooke Lynne. In the struggle the particle beam weapon is overloaded with electricity from Fang, and it explodes, sending the brick-red gargoyle flying.

“Have a nice flight, ya faggot,” mutters the cougarman mutate.

He looks around.

He is so close to becoming the kingpin of the underworld.

He can not let these freaks ruin those dreams.

He will not be Freaky Freddy again!

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees that junkie Maggie near the chamber.

He grabs her.

“I wouldn’t worry about him if I were you,” Fang says to the junkie. He looks towards the gargoyles.

“Brooke Lynne,” he calls out. “I’ve got no grudge with you. Leave now and Maggie goes free.”

“All right, Fang,” says Brooke Lynne. “She comes with us.”

One of the gargoyles, a big blue one, says something in objection.

“I’m the leader and I say forget him!” yells Brooke Lynne.

“I like the way you give orders,” says Fang. He releases Maggie.

“What makes you think I’ll go with you and leave Derek?” asks Maggie.

“Then stay with him for all I care!” yells the gargoyle. “I’m sure you’ll make wonderful cellmates. Yeah, I thought that would shut you up. Now say goodbye to your boyfriend and let’s go.”

Fang looks at Brooke Lynne. Not a bad guy, for a queer.

“Hey, no hard feelings, guy,” says the cougarman mutate.

He feels something slam into him.

Talon is pinning him down.

He escaped somehow!

“Claw, do something!” yells Fang. “Come on, already. You want to be weak, like them?”

Claw shakes his head and destroys his rifle.

Over his protests, Talon and Brooke Lynne put him inside the chamber. He begs to be let out.

A few yards away, Cedric had been watching.

“Big Mike will be disappointed,” he says, having a feeling that Talon would not shelter drug dealers and gangbangers.

Ooooooo

**January 8, 1996**

Monday mornings are always busy for the population in Manhattan, with so many people returning to work after a weekend, a huge proportion of them after a hard weekend of drinking.

Being a CEO of a multi-national corporation, David Xanatos knows that duty can call at any time. Even so, he always makes sure to show up Monday morning, as most of his work-force is one the five-days-a-week schedule, as well as the workforces of his biggest clients and vendors.

He does read a message from Owen, informing him that Mr. Sykes lost control of the Labyrinth.

A second later, the billionaire industrialist shrugs. There are other things to handle.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scarlett starts her assignment at the Gen-U-Tech research facility in Bosnia. She discovers the purpose of the facility...and a radical change in her life.

**January 20, 1996**

 

   Dr. Scarlett Mallory walks along a concrete-lined corridor, with the lioness mutate Maggie Reed leading the way. The geneticist had not been in this section of the old Cyberbiotics lab now called the Labyrinth. Also escorting them are some rough-looking men in rough-looking clothes. They are all keeping a close eye on Scarlett.

  Finally they reach this large room with tiled floors. Above are some overhead fluorescent lights. There are cells along the walls. Scarlett figures out this was where that gargoyle Goliath held Dr. Anton Sevarius captive in an attempt to force a cure for the mutates.

All of the cells are empty save one. The one occupied cell has a cougarman mutate- with brown fur, feline face, two wings, a white sleeveless shirt and blue shorts over the hips.

“Hiya, babe,” says Fang. He looks at his lover, noticing she wears a long, heavy coat. She holds a blue winter hat in her hands.

“How are they treatin’ ya?” she asks.

“Not that bad,” answers the mutate. “I mean, the food is better than what they serve at Rikers, I don’t have to worry about droppin’ the soap in the shower. Not that bad.”

“Well, I’m leaving for Bosnia tonight.”

“Tonight?” Fang recalls that New Years’ Even when Scarlett told him the company was transferring her to a research facility in Bosnia.

“Yeah. Rachel and I had a hell of a girls’ night out at the Village last night. I wanted to see you before I left.”

She knew that Fang wanted to become the top drug dealer and top pimp in all of New York City. Now these dreams broke apart like a denatured protein.

“Maybe if I behave myself, Talon will let me have conjugal visits with ya.”

Maggie and the others grimace upon hearing about conjugal visits.

Ooooooooooo

**January 21, 1996**

It is around 3 .AM. Eastern Standard Time, and John F. Kennedy International Airport is busy as ever, with thousands of people still on the job.

Just outside the Xanatos Enterprises hangar, Scarlett blows a small cloud out of her mouth and into the freezing cold air.

“I heard we are stopping at Paris,” she says.

“No time for sightseeing,” replies Dr. Rachel Weinberg, who, like Scarlett, is also dressed in a long coat and wearing a hat over her head. “We only got what, a two hour layover there?”

The two of them board the cabin of the Boeing 737 along with other Gen-U-Tech employees. Scarlett sits down on one of the leather seats. It feels so comfortable.

“It’s almost like Air Force One,” says a blond-haired stewardess.

Scarlett rests against a pillow that the back of her head squeezes against the headrest. She falls into such a deep sleep that she does not even notice the plane taking off from the runway and into the skies above the Atlantic Ocean.

Oooooooo

Peeking at the window by the time she wakes up, Scarlett catches a glimpse of the landscape below, with farms and roads.

“Rise and shine,” says Rachel.

Scarlett’s eyelids close for a while, and she forces herself to open them, despite the desire to just sleep.

“Fasten your seatbelts,” the captain says over the intercom. “we will be landing in Orly in ten minutes.”

Sure enough, the 737 lands at Orly Airport in Orly, France, just south of Paris, the rubber tires meeting the concrete surface of the runway. Minutes later, the plane taxis to the Xanatos Enterprises hangar.

Scarlett and Rachel step off the plane. The air is as cold as it is in New York. Workers in overalls do a wide variety of tasks in the hangar.

A dark-haired man approaches the passengers who had just stepped off the jet.

“Welcome to Orly Airport,” he says. “We can make you all comfortable while you wait for your flight to Bosnia.”

There is a lounge. Scarlett and Rachel wait there. It has the latest model television, as well as a station that serves water, soft drinks, and coffee, as well as chips. There is a bookshelf full of paperback books. Leather seats provide comfort. It is much more luxurious than VIP lounges in JFK Airport.

Rachel hands Scarlett an earbud connected to a Sony Walkman. She places the earbud into her ear and hears the song “Come As You Are” by Nirvana. “Too bad about Kurt Cobain,” says Rachel.

“Yeah,” replies Scarlett.

Kurt Cobain, along with Krist Novoselic, founded the band Nirvana in 1987. Nirvana established itself in the Seattle, Washington grunge scene. The band really became famous with their 1991 hit “Smells Like Teen Spirit”. But the band came to an end on April 8, 1994, when Kurt Cobain had been found dead due to a self-inflicted wound with a Remington Model-11 20-gauge shotgun. The suicide shocked the music community. Rachel recalls sobbing upon hearing the tragic news.

Not long afterward, Dr. Anton Sevarius arrives. Scarlett notices that the head geneticist is wearing a blue coat over a turtleneck.

“Enjoying yourselves?” he asks.

“Yes, sir,” replies Rachel.

One of the passengers, a man in a crewneck sweater, walks up to Sevarius.

“Captain Nathan Silverblum, U.S. Navy,” he says. “I am here to accompany you on the inspection, on behalf of Undersecretary Duval.”

“Pleasure to work with you, Captain,” replies the doctor.

“I have read the briefing.”

“One thing about Gen-U-Tech is that we provide the best reading material, material than not even Michael Crichton could imagine.”

Soon, they all board another jet, on a course to Bosnia.

Ooooooooooo

Not too long afterward, while it is still daytime, the plane lands in an airfield in Bosnia. Scarlett and the other passengers step out into the cold winter air. Unlike Orly or JFK, the airfield just has a few Quonset huts. The passengers all go into one of the Quonsets, where they all sign a form.

They, along with their luggage, then  board an unmarked bus. The bus soon pulls out of the airfield, rumbling along the roads.

Scarlett and Rachel look out at the forested countryside of Bosnia. While neither of the geneticists are experts in current events, they have heard of the Yugoslav Civil War that had ravaged this region not too long ago.

It is about forty minutes before the bus reaches this gated compound, surrounded by a high wall. They men bearing AK-47 automatic rifles stand watch as the gate opens. The bus goes tight through the gate.

The passengers step out. Scarlett notices a huge, rectangular building; she figures it must be the main administrative building for the research center.

Scarlett notices a uniformed man approaching them, who appears to be large and in charge. The most striking feature is the scar running down from his right eye down his right cheek.

“Hello,” says the man in thick accented English. “I am Serge Tanzic. I lead security here. Welcome back, Anton.”

“Great to see you again, Serge,” answers Dr. Anton Sevarius. “No better way to start a day than a long flight and a long bus ride. I am, of course, here to do inspection on the activities of this state-of-the-art facility. The others will be working here for a few months.”

“I am sure support staff can give new employees tour,” says Tanzic. “But you must have dinner with me and Goran tonight?”

“Goran?” asks one of the researchers.

“Goran is my trusted right hand,” replies the head of security. “He is not available now, but you will meet him at dinner.”

Sevarius smiles. “None of you will be disappointed, I promise.”

And so the new arrivals are given a tour by a young lady in a Scottish accent. The employees are shown to the employee lodge, where they will sleep. Scarlett and Rachel look at their quarters, which is a one-bedroom apartment.

“It is much bigger than my place in New York,” says Rachel.

They are informed of the perks of this place. They are then led to the cafeteria, which has a menu serving various types of food for lunch and dinner.  They are introduced to the employee gym and the rec center. They are then taken to similar facilities for the test subjects.

“All right,” says tour guide. “Now let’s take ye to the place where ye do all the work.”

And so she does. They are taken to various medical examination rooms and laboratories. It looks very similar to a hospital in the U.S.., with the white walls and the tiled floors and the generally sterile look.

They then reach this room.

“And here is the chemical storage room,” says the guide.

“Yes, this is where we keep the mutagenic formula,” says Dr. Sevarius. The others look at a locked glass cabinet, with the easily-recognizable biohazard symbol stenciled on the glass. Behind the glass are some containers filled with liquids. “It is a miracle that what is in those jars can radically change one’s biology.”

Scarlett notices a sign mounted on the wall, which advises her and the others to wear protective clothing when handling the chemicals.

The tour continues. Scarlett and Rachel are shown to the office. It looks similar to the offices at Gen-U--Tech headquarters, which cubicles and file cabinets and all sorts of office equipment.

“This is where we’ll be spending much of the day,” says Scarlett.

Not long afterward, the your ends.

“I am sure you will all adjust fairly quickly here,” says Sevarius. “I do have some important meetings here to attend. Do not forget about dinner with our friend Serge.”

Not long afterward, Scarlett sits at her assigned desk in her office, reading the reports regarding the research in this facility.

Oooo

“This is an odd hour for us to meet with the chief of security,” says Scarlett.

“It’s not so odd,” replies Rachel.

The two of them approach the community room, located in a building maybe a few hundred yards from the main laboratory building. Instead of being empty as it was during the tour, it has two long rectangular tables with chairs, set up similarly to the employee cafeteria. 

Serge Tanzic and Anton Sevarius enter.

“Welcome, my guests,” says the security chief, clad in a sweater and jeans. “I am glad you can join is. You need to try pljescavika. I cooked it myself.”

Most of the new arrivals have no idea what pljescavika is.”

Scarlett notices a sculpture just a few feet from the table. It appears to have a humanoid shape, wearing a cloak. Upon closer inspection, the assistant geneticist notices that the face is beaklike. Two ears on the side of the head are shaped like fins. The statue only has two eyes.

“Nice sculpture,” she says, putting her hand on the statue’s shoulder.

“It is almost time,” says Serge.

“You’re in for a surprise, Dr. Mallory,” says Sevarius.

Rachel just grins.

Scarlett hears something, and sees cracks appear on the statue.

She is startled.

“I didn’t do it,” she says. “It just cracked by itself…”

The eyes glow white.

She and the others hear a loud roar as the statue rises up, extending its arms, and the cape, which now appears to be wings attached to the back of the shoulders. Pieces of the skin fall off.

The skin is a slate-gray color. Whatever this thing is wears a flak jacket with many pockets. A tail appears to extend from the backside; it is sharp and pointed at the end, like a stinger.

“These are guests?” asks the awakened statue.

“Yes,” replies Tanzic. “Everyone, this is my second command, Goran.”

“Good evening, everyone,” says Goran.

“Goran here is a gargoyle,” Dr. Sevarius says to the researchers. “He and other gargoyles turn to stone during the day.”

“I’ve worked with gargoyles before,” says Rachel.

“Let me get the pljescavika,” says Tanzic.

He walks into a back room, and then later comes out with a serving tray. Tanzic and Goran themselves serve the food to the new employees. Scarlett looks at the meal on her plate. The centerpiece is a piece of browned meat. There are also cubed potatoes and some sort of leafy green. She sits down and eats the meat.

The assistant geneticist likes the pljescavika.

“Great food,” says one of the new researchers.

Soon, conversation fills the room.

“I was colonel in Yugoslav army,” says Tanzic. “When war broke out, I fought for my people. I founded my own mercenary company and we provide security for Gen-U-Tech.”

“So how did you meet the gargoyle here?” asks Scarlett.

“My, uh, clan, is it? We live near hometown of Serge,” says Goran. I meet Serge when we were boys, back in 1962. I was hurt and he help me. He grew up faster than me, went to army.”

“Interesting,” says Rachel, sticking a fork into a piece of pljescavika.  

“Want to know what interesting?” asks Tanzic.

“What?” asks another researcher.

“Goran’s clan served as a commando unit under Marshal Tito,” answers the former Yugoslav colonel.

“Oh really?” asks Rachel.

“Serge introduce my clan to Yugoslav Army,” says Goran. “They train us. During war, we fought with Serge and his men to protect our home against the vermin.  We delivered death from above.”

“I know what war is like,” says Captain Silverblum. “I was a SEAL during the Vietnam War, almost thirty years ago.”

Not too long afterward, all the food is finished.

“I must once again express my gratitude for your hospitality, Colonel Tanzic,” says Dr. Sevarius. “You are as great a storyteller as you are a soldier.”

“You are welcome.”

That evening, Scarlett goes to her room at the employee lodge, now dressed in a nightgown instead of a heavy winter coat.

“You still thinkin’ about him?” asks Rachel.

“Yeah,” she replies. “Maybe I can write a letter or somethin’.”

Ooooooooo

**January 29, 1996**

“Don’t worry; I’m just here as an observer,” says Scarlett.

She is inside an examination room. It is a typical examination room with a table and a counter and cabinets. A blood pressure device, with a column of mercury, is mounted on the table.

Sitting on the exam table is a brown-haired woman, appearing in age from her late twenties to early thirties. There is this haunted look in her eyes.

One very noticeable feature is the bulging belly all but yelling that the woman is pregnant.

Scarlett had known about the patients. For the past week, she had read reports and conducted genetic tests on samples sent to the labs by the obstetricians and gynecologists.  This is the first time she sees one of them up close and personal, knowing what is growing inside the woman’s womb.

The obstetrician, a black-haired bespectacled woman known as Dr. Chang, examines the pregnant woman. She speaks in a  foreign-sounding language.

“Oh, hi, I’m Scarlett,” says the assistant geneticist.

“Azra,” replies the patient. “I speak some English.”

“I did refugee relief work in a camp in Macedonia back around 1993,” says Dr. Chang. “I treated patients there, some as young as 12.”

“Very bad times,” says Azra. “I don’t know if it over, or if war will start back up.”

Ooooooo

After a round of tests in the laboratory, Scarlett is back in her office. She sips a cup of coffee as she reads the reports.

Azra, and the other patients, would be giving birth to the next generation of mutate bio weapons. The project here sparks some of Scarlett’s scientific interest. She had seen adults mutated into bio weapons, but now she can witness the birth of mutate bio weapons, watching them grow from babies. All of the patients in this facility had been recruited from the refugee camps set up as a result of the Yugoslav Civil War. They all had much more normal children, who reside with them in this compound.

She knows about a few failed pregnancies, but other pregnancies, including Azra’s, appear to be going along just fine, considering the nature of the offspring gestating inside them. She looks at the ultrasounds, seeing the images of babies with the little wings growing out of the backs of the shoulders.

Scarlett is excited at the thought of seeing one of these mutate babies being born, seeing what they would look like.

She continues her work.

oooooo

**February, 1996**

A new routine settles for Scarlett in Gen-U-Tech’s Bosnia facility. There are, of course, the lab tests, writing reports, examining previous reports, with coffee breaks in between.

But some things are not so routine.

She had managed to retrieve something from a supply room.

She sits in her room in the employee lodge.

There can be no denying it.

Dr. Scarlett Mallory is pregnant.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scalrett is pregnant. How will she handle this?

**February, 1996**

With a discharge of electricity, Fang makes another scorch mark in his cell. It is one of the few pleasures he has had, since being captured following his failed attempt to overthrow Talon and become the literal kingpin of the New York underworld.

In another part of the Labyrinth, Talon gets some interesting news.

“So Elisa is in Prague?” asks Talon.

“Yeah, that’s right,” answers the red-brick gargoyle called Brooklyn.

“I got this letter from Preston Vogel from CyberBiotics,” says Detective Matt Bluestone. “Their situation’s a bit complicated. I made a copy.”

He hands the pantherman mutate a piece of paper. Talon reads it for a minute.

“A magic island,” he says. “Sending them where they need to be.”

“I’m sure they can keep contacting us,” says a huge light blue gargoyle called Broadway.

ooooooooo

For half an hour after seeing the pregnancy test turn out positive, Dr. Scarlett Mallory feels and thinks nothing.

Then the implication of her being pregnant creep into her very soul.

There is a new life growing inside her, inside her own body.

She can imagine her belly swelling up.

And she wonders what the baby will look like.

A pregnancy has already been shown to be possible, what with the medical reports on the patients in this facility.

But the patients here were artificially inseminated with samples that had been mutated by Dr. Anton Sevarius’s mutagenic formula, while her method had been a little more conventional.

She wonders what difference that will make.

Dr. Rachel Weinberg enters the room.

“I’m pregnant,” Scarlett says to her.

“What did you say?” asks the assistant geneticist.

“I’m pregnant.”

“Pregnant?”

“My furry man got me pregnant.”

Rachel stays silent for a minute upon learning about this huge life change from her friend.

“How will I explain this?” asks Scarlett. “I mean, I don’t know how to hide it. And what will my baby look like?”

“We’ll find out.”

“And it takes two to make a baby. “I mean, what am I supposed to say? My baby daddy was a test subject of illegal human experimentation sponsored by the military?”

Rachel places her hand on her chin. “Maybe you could say you’re a surrogate. I mean, Gen-U-Tech offers fertility treatment services- that is the cover for our research here in Bosnia. You give up the baby, no one asks questions about the father or even sees the baby.”

“I guess you’re right,” says Scarlett. “I mean, how would I explain to my dad why his first grandchild has fur and wings?”

Scarlett looks down at her belly. No bulge is visible, but to will be in a few months.

She thinks of how the baby was conceived.

She can still recall the feeling of Fang’s fur as she runs her fingers thrugh it.

She recalls  the hardness iof his dick as it rubs against the walls of her pussy.

And she recalls the feeling of his mutate cum coating the inside of her womb,

And she thinks of the life growing inside her.

A life that would grow up to be a mutate bio weapon.

Ooooooooo

The ultrasound image is blurry. Scarlett, however, can clearly make out the wings growing out the fetus’s back.

The fetus inside her womb.

“Just like the others,” says Dr. Chang. “Of course, the first ones won’t be born for another month.”

The assistant geneticist had already decided to seek medical care from the obstetrics staff here. This is for the best for her baby. Gen-U-Tech has the best resources to help her with her unusual pregnancy, especially since they are already treating other women with similar pregnancies.

“Yeah, we can’t just run tests on their blood and the amniotic fluid,” replies the assistant geneticist. “we need to actually observe them after they are born.”

And the first of the babies are due in two months.

Ooooooo

Azra once again has another medical examination. They had become more frequent aas her own pregnancy had advanced.

As she sits on the exam table, clad in the hospital gown, she reminds herself that she is doing this to get the best life for her two children. They had suffered so much already. Half a century of peace had dissolved into civil war.

She recognizes the red-bhaired woman in the room with the dark-haired woman called Dr. Chang.

“You Scarlett, right?” asks Azra.

“Yeah, I’m just observing,” replies the researcher. “Are you okay?”

“I guess.”

“What’s it like having a baby?”

“Why you ask?”

“Because…I’m pregnant.”

“Are you sure it’s a good idea to talk about your personal life with a patient?” asks Dr. Chang.

“Nothing wrong,” says Azra. “I remember first time with Braz, eight years ago. Ate a lot. Later on, hard to walk.”

“And, uh, childbirth?”

“It hurt. Twenty-five hour labor.  Braz father was there with me.”

Scarlett did not need to ask about the man who fathered Azra’s children, knowing that the patients here are all refugees from a land so recently torn apart by war.

“I fell in  love, and I did again with Mirsada,” says Azra.

 

ooooo

Owen Burnett walks into David Xanatos’s office, binder in hand. Inside the office, the large screen television is on, showing a National Basketball Association game between the New York Knicks and the Philadelphia 76ers. The billionaire industrialist sits at his desk, watching the basketball game.

“Any updates?” he asks.

“Yes, sir,” replies the bespectacled man. “Dr. Scarlett Mallory is pregnant, and Fred Sykes is the father.”

Xanatos’s eyes widen. “That is an unexpected development.”

“Sykes’s and Mallory’s relationship is a bit unexpected.”

“I suppose. Then again, even five years ago I could not have imagined you, or Goliath.”

“The research staff in Bosnia is monitoring Dr. Mallory’s pregnancy,” says Owen. “Since we are on the subject, sir, here is the latest report from there.”

Owen hands Xanatos the binder with printed copies of the most recent reports from the facility.

Ooooooooo

**March, 1996**

Scarlett is sitting at her desk again, looking over the latest test results. She glances down at her belly, which has a slight bulge now. Her pregnancy is noticeable when she wears a heavy knee-length coat- required outdoor wear in this part of the world at this time of year.

_I won’t be able to get blitzed during the St. Patty’s Day party_ , she thinks.

She can recall her belly getting bigger and bigger to accommodate the growing baby inside. Many of the first patients are already in much more advanced stages of pregnancy, looking as if their babies could not wait to be born.

The telephone on her desk rings. The assistant geneticist picks it up.

“Dr. Mallory speaking,” she says.

“Scarlett, it’s Rachel,” says the voice. “I heard one of our patients is having a baby.”

“Really?” she asks.

“Yeah, we’re all gathered in the observation room to witness history!”

And so she locks her computer and leaves her desk. She walks along the hallways, riding an elevator, and then finally reaching the observation room. She immediately notices Rachel, along with the other researchers she had worked with here for over a month, all dressed in their white lab coats.

They all look through a large glass window. There were some people in the other side wearing blue smocks. One of the patients is in there, a woman wearing a headdress and a hospital gown.

The woman sits on the bed. Her ankles are tied to stirrups.

Scarlett places a hand over her belly.

They can hear the doctors over a speaker installed in the observation room.

“Cervix dilated an eight centimeters,” says one of the doctors, loOking between the patient’s legs.

“It’s coming out.”

“I can see the head.”

Scarlett and the others can hear the woman scream.

“We have it,” says one of the doctors. They hand a swaddled bundle to the new mother. The baby is difficult to see at this distance.

All of the geneticists in the observation room are awed.

Some of the medical staff in the other room take pictures and record video.

“Well,” says Dr. Schleissberg, one of the researchers, “now we have a lot of work to do.”

Not long afterward, as she is examining a DNA sample from the newborn, she does get a picture of the baby.

The baby is female. She looks like an animal cub, covered in black fur and a feline head, with the pointed ears and wedge shaped nose. The legs end in cat-like feet.

She could hardly believe that this baby gestated in the womb of a human female for nine months.

She wonders if her baby will look like this.

She once again places her hand over her pregnant belly.

Not long afterward, far far away, Duval receives a report that the first of the babies were born.


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scarlett's pregnancy advances as she continues her work, and more of the babies are born.

   **April, 1996**

It is time.

Azra lies down on the table in the maternity ward of the main building.

She recalls her water breaking at around midnight. Soon, an ambulance took her from the paitnet lidge to the main building- admittedly a short trip. Her two children, Braz and Mirasda, have been in this waiting room with all sorts of toys and coloring books. One of the obstetricians is examining her cervix as it dilates further.

In addition to the medical staff, Dr. Scarlett Mallory is inside, dressed in scrubs like the others. She had permission to witness to birth, in exchange for having to work late.

She can start to feel the contractions.

Scarlett watches. She had only seen videos of childbirth, with the babies being normal humans. The assistant geneticist knows this baby will be different.

The pain in her womb increases as the contractions become stronger. She leans forward, crying.

She wishes that her man, the love of her love, is here with her, holding her hand.

She is doing this for her children.

She feels her womb pushing against the baby inside.

Azra pushes and pushes.

Scarlett can see the head emerge.

Azra makes a final push.

She hears crying.

Two of the obstetricians hold the baby.

The new mother takes a close look.

She notices the color is orange.

Her heart races. Is something wrong with her baby?

She takes a closer look.

She sees the cat-like face and the round ears.

 

And the orange color is that of fur, wet fur covering the baby’s body. There are black stripes.

She is so exhausted, too tired to fully understand what just happened.

Not long afterward, Scarlett is back in her office, wearing the white lab coat.

She then gets a message.

 

Oooooooooooo

 

Scarlett looks at the two-story house. It had finish, unlike most of the buildings here. The exterior walls are covered in plank frames. The assistant geneticist wonders if the house predates the construction of the research facility.

The house and the surrounding yard is enclosed by a stone wall, separating it from the rest of the research complex. Armed guards stand watch. Unlike the guards at the exterior gates, who wear flak jackets and bear assault rifles, these guards wear collared shirts, trousers, and a billed cap. They have batons and pistols at their belts.

Serge Tanzic approaches the front gate of the house. Accompanying him is the gargoyle, Goran.

“Hello, Dr. Mallory,” the former Yugoslav colonel says. “I am glad you can join for dinner.”

Scarlett walks along the gravel walkway to the front porch of the house. It sort of reminds her of the single-family homes in Cherry Hill.

She enters the living room with Tanzic and Goran. It is well-furnished, with the carpet and the sofas all screaming luxury, as if they would fit right in inside a posh penthouse overlooking Central Park in Manhattan.

“Have a seat,” says Goran.

The genetics researcher sits on an opulent chair at an opulent dining table; it feels much more comfortable than the small sofa in her quarters, let alone the chair at her desk. Pljescavika is served on ceramic plates.

“I apologize for not being able to serve wine,” says the head of the security forces, “I understand you pregnant.”

“Yeah. I couldn’t drink beer at the St. Patty’s Day party,” Scarlett replies, recalling the party the previous month at the commons area in the employee lodge, with all sorts of green decorations, as well as kegs of beer and corned beef sandwiches and Irish nachoes. “I did get to play ping pong. I got eliminated the first round though; Rachel made it to three rounds. I did better during the _Mario Kart_ tournament, probably because I wasn’t drunk.”

“I understand you are similar to patients here. The father of your child was test subject.”

“You know?”

“I know of Gen-U-Tech’s early experiments in this. They mutate adults. This is long term project.”

“Interesting that you choose patient as mate,” says Goran.

“We connected,” Scarlett says to the slate-gray gargoyle while sticking a fork into a piece of browned meat.

“Where is the baby daddy, as they say in English?” asks Serge.

“He’s in custody,” replies Scarlett. “He tried to take over this place in New York called the Labyrinth.”

“Perhaps I can rescue him. I led mercenary company during the Civil War. Together, we rid our home of the vermin infestation.”

“And what about you?” Scarlett asks Goran.

“My clan fight with Serge’s men,” replies the gargoyle. “Gargoyles protect. We protect the land from the Bosnian vermin! We did not kill all of them; some of them, Serge and his men put to use.”

“Yes, we did, my friend. I gave them what they deserved.”

Serge Tanzic touches the deep scar on his face and remembers the war. His seizing of the villages, removing the Bosnians, killing many of the men, taking the women and girls back to camp. Many of the girls and women were sent back home on buses, very heavy with child, the ultimate expression of conquest and domination.

“And now we put these whores to service once again,” says Tanzic, his voice rising. “Even pests have their role in, what did they say in that lion movie?”

“Circle of Life,” replies Goran. “Rodents need to be controlled, after all.”

Scarlett feels a spike of fear upon hearing what the human and the gargoyle said. She quickly finishes her food; the pljescavika does not taste so good anymore.

“Perhaps we can arrange for the father of your child to work for us,” says Goran. “Serge always treats his people well- human and gargoyle alike.”

“Uh, thank you for your dinner,” says Scarlett, before she stands up and leaves the house.

oooooo

U.S. Navy Captain Nathan Silverblum steps out of the land rover, this time wearing a light jacket over a shirt instead of a Navy uniform. A second later, Duval and Dr. Anton Sevarius STEP OUT out. They are greeted by the staff at the Bosnia research facility.

“Let us take you to the nursery,” says the lead researcher.

He and the other staff lead the three men into the main building. Silverblum notices some changes since the last time that he visited; there must have been some refurbishments and remodelings since then.

After a minute of walking alonfg the hallways, Duval and Silverblum reach a large room.

“Excuse me,” says a nurse in a blue outfit, “we need you to scrub down and wear gloves and masks.”

“Of course,” replies Duval.

“We would not want little babies to catch pneumonia, would we?” asks Dr. Sevarius.

And so they do, washing their hands with disinfectant soap and then putting on gloves. They also wear masks over their faces.

The three men enter the room. There are several little cribs. A nurse in a blue gown,. Wearing a mask and gloves, is also in the room, holding one of the infants.

The nurse brings the baby up close to ther visitors. Duval looks closely with both his natural eye and his cybernetic eye.  The baby looks like a tiger cub, with orange fur with black stripes. There is a slight smell of antiseptic shampoo.

“and to think that baby was born from a woman,” says Captain Silverblum. The Navy officers had read the reports, but it is not like having the reports confirmed up close and personal.

“It must take quite a bit of work,” says Dr. Sevarius.

“Believe me, it is an interesting job,” says the nurse. “We often take samples and send it to the lab for testing. The mothers often come here to nurse the babies.”

As if one cue, a woman with lifght brown hair and wearing a buttion-down blouse and a skirt walks up to the nurse and receives the tiger-like infant.

“So much potential,” says Duval, having seen the adults. “If only the Round Table had these.” Memories from .”long ago surface in his mind.

“Yeah, I miss Round Table pizza as well,” replies the nurse.

After Captain Silverblum takes asome pictures with a Nikon camera, the three are men go down the hall, visirting the rest of the facility. They enter one of the rooms labeled “Genetics Laboratory”. Inside Are some desks as well as all sorts of expensive looking, state-of the-art equipment. It looks vaguely familiar to Duval and Silverblum, as they had toured this facility months ago, before any of the babies were born.

“Ah, Dr. Mallory,” says Sevarius. “Nothing more radiant than a woman with child.”

“Sure thing, Doc,” replies the assistant geneticist, standing up, the bulge in her belly visible now. “Everything seems to be going along. I do spend an hour a day as a pin cushion.”

“So you are one of the surrogates as well?” asks Duval.

“No, this was the result of more..extracurricular activities.”

Silverblum’s eyes widen like plates upon hearing the implications. He looks at the pregnant woman. “Ah, Dr. Mallory, can you summarize any test results on the babies here?” asks the Navy captain.

“Well, the babies here have base human DNA,” she replies. “Genetic material from jungle cats, various species of bats, and electric eels are added to the base human DNA in key spots. As such, we have observed increased muscle cross-sections, wings, and fur, similar to their adult counterparts. As for their mothers, they are in good health. No medical conditions not known among the general population.”

“Very brilliant, Dr. Mallory,” says Dr. Sevarius. “And we will make sure your baby is well-tasken care of. I mean, you can’t exactly just bring your baby home. You can’t exactly take your baby out for a walk in the park, and we are sure to provide a wide variety of recreational activities.”

“And that will happen to the other babies?”

“Of course.”

“I am sure these babies will make fine warriors when they grow up,” says Duval. “Including yours.”

“Well, Fang was not much of a warrior himself,” says Scarlett. She briefly thinks of the original test subjects, the tigerman mutate called Claw had been a veteran of the Gulf War five years ago.

“Well, we must get going,” says Sevarius, looking at his watch. “Sorry we can’t just stay and chat about your upcoming motherhood.”

He, Duval, and Silverblum leave the lab.

“Was I invisible to them,” says Dr. Rachel Weinberg. “They sure didn’t even notice me.”

“Maybe my babty belly makes me stand out,” says Scarlett.

“The baby will be fine. We’ll give your child a good life.”

Elsewhere in the building, Azra nurses the tigerboy baby.

Her baby.

She had initially though of it as just a thing she grew in her womb so that Braz and MirASda would have a better life.

Buit despite the oranGe black-steriped fur, the tiny wings on the back, this is her baby, her son, the little brother of Braz and Mirasda.

How can she give him up any more than she can give Braz or MiraSda up?

Oooooooooo

**May 25, 1996**

Owen Burnett steps out into the courtyards of Castle Wyvern in Manhattan. A black helicopter awaits him. The helicopter will take him to John F. Kennedy International Airport in Queens, from which he will catch a chartered flight to France, and begin touring the European facilities of Xanatos Enterprises.

“Have a safe trip, Owen,” says David Xanatos.

 

Oooooooo

**May 28, 1996**

Many of the surrogates have already left, having been given a new home and a huge lump some of money to start a new life for them and their children. They had lost all in a pointless civil war.

All they had to do to get a new life was to give up one of their children.

Azra could not do that. Although Stojan was not conceived by the man she had loved, the man cruelly taken from her by Serb paramilitaries, she will not abandon her son.

The fact that he has fur and wings and a catlike face is beside the point.

Security in this facility had been directed to protect against intruders, as well as the laboratories where the genetic experiments were performed, and the nursery where the babies sleep. Taking Stojan was not too difficult. Azra wonders if the guards underestimated the surrogates. After all, the babies look like monsters, and why would a woman who gave birth to a monster want to keep a monster?

It had been even easier to steal one of the Jeeps, as the guards here had not been expecting any of the surrogates to take any of the vehicles for a joyride.

With Braz, Mirasda, and Stojan, Azra drives the Jeep to a service gate. Unlike the wrought iron main gate, the service gate is a chain-link fence.

The guards posted there had been focused on keeping people out, not in.

Soon enough, the alarm is sounded.


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Intruders are discovered in the Gen-U-Tech research facility in Bosnia. Who are they?

**May 28, 1996**

 

Goran and some of the guards board a Mil Mi-8 helicopter, a twin turbine helicopter which had once been used by the Soviet Air Force. He had heard the alarm, heard that one of the Jeeps was stolen, the driver believed to be a woman.The nursey had beEn searched and it was confirmed that one of the infants was missing. The helicopter rises into the air, joining another helicopter.

Goran’s eyes glow white. This car thief will pay.

The two helicopters patrol for a few minutes, shining searchlights on the forested ground below.

“Something’s attacking us,” Goran hears over his headset. “We’re going down.”

Goran flies the helicopter, and  the men inside are alert, waiting for whatever had attacked the other helicopter.

Soon enough, Goran lands the Mi-8. The other Mi-8 seemed to be in one piece. Already, armed guards stand near the crashed helicopter.

The gargoyle had heard who had stolen the truck.

“We must find her,” says the gargoyle. “and her baby.”

“Sir, it is almost sunrise,” says one of the humans.

“I know. Send a message to Serge.”

“Yes, sir.”

As the sky is brightening, Goran informs Serge Tanzic of what had just happened.

“So one of these filthy whores took one of the monster babies?” asks the former Yugoslav colonel.

“It amazes me how a human could feel love for an ugly monster, want to raise monster as child” replies Goran. “I never thought the Bosn-“

Goran turns to stone as the sun rises.

oooooooooooo

It is now an early morning ritual for Scarlett Mallory to check on and caress her pregnant belly. She would stare for a minute in the mirror.

Every morning her belly seems to get noticeably bigger now.

This particular morning, something is happening out of the ordinary. For Owen Burnett, the right-hand man of David Xanatos, is personally inspecting the Gen-U-Tech research facility here in Bosnia.

Soon enough, a Land Rover stops inside the grounds, near the main gate. Scarlett recognizes the man that steps out. He has blond hair, eyeglasses and a serious look on his face, a  suit over his body- and a stone first where his left hand should have been.

“Mr. Burnett,” says Serge Tanzic.

“I am he,” replies Owen. “I am here to inspect this project on behalf of David Xanatos.”

“Oh, uh, hi<” says Scarlett, standing a few feet from Owen.

“You must be Dr. Mallory,” he says.

“Correct-a-mundo,” she answers in her thick New Jersey accent. . “We’ve done so much here, so much more than that first batch in New York. Impressive, since Dr. Sevarius isn’t here every day to check on our work. Last time he was here must have been last month, I think. Anyway, Serge here has been taking care of us good. We always have fresh roasted coffee every day, a gym, video games.”

“Then you could take me through the tour of this facility?” asks Owen.

“Of course, my friend,” says Tanzic. “If you can follow me.”

Owen and Serge step inside an open-air Jaguar convertible.

Scarlett meets them again when their tour reaches the main building. They visit the chemical supply storage room, where Dr. Sevarius’s mutagenic formula is stored in glass cabinets marked BIOHAZARD. They then visit the nursery, where the babies sleep. Dr. Rachel Weinberg even alerted them to another one of the surrogates giving birth to a mutate bio weapon.

A woman in a suit approaches Owen. “Allow me to show ya to yer guest quarters, sir,” she says with a Scottish lilt.

Oooooooooo

Elsewhere in the main building, there is a room with all sorts of communications equipment. It serves as a command center for the research facility’s security forces. Serge Tanzic is inside listening to reports.

“Where can that filthy whore hide?” he asks.

“The thickness of the forest will make it difficult to search, sir,” a voice over the radio speaks. “BNo doubt that is why she chose this area to cover her escape. The attack happened very close to sunrise. We may be able to catch the gargoyle if it roosted nearby.”

“Good.”

The former colonel frowns. Finding the whore and her offspring in a large forest could take days, especially as he can only spare so many men.

Oooooooo

Scarlett looks at some X-ray photographs of the baby bio weapons. The skeletons have signifificant cartilage, similar to normal human babies.

“Dr. Mallory,” she hears a flat, monotone voice say. The assistant geneticist looks up and sees Owen Burnett.

“Uh, Mr. Burnett,”  she says. “How are you doing?”

“I have dinner with Colonel Tanzic tonight, and leave tomorrow morning to continue my tour of Mr. Xanatos’s European facilities,” answers Owen. “I must ask. How is your baby?”

“The baby feels fine, and all the tests back uit up. We’re really going into uncharted territory, given how my own baby was conceived as compared to how the surrogates’ babies were conceived.”

“Yes. It seems the circumstances of your pregnancy arose from more chaotic circumstances.”

“That’s one way of putting it.”

“Still, your love story with Mr. Sykes, the one you call Fang, is intriguing. I have known quite a few love stories over the- my time. Why, Mr. Xanatos could have easily paired with a supermodel or an actress or a celebrity singer. But instead he chose a combat veteran who flew rescue missions for the Air Force during the Gulf War, was awarded the Silver Star, to be his first…”

“I don’t think it is a good idea to discuss my boss’s love life.”

“Wise counsel, Dr. Mallory.”

“Fang’s been through a lot. I mean, he was just scrapin’ by, most of his life. But we have fun together. I mean, we enjoy playing video games and all. And he has this sense of humor. One time, this was after he flew me home when he and the others met with Mr. Xanatos last year, just before they moved to the Westchester County facility. I was at the apartment I had in Manhattan, and I was wonderin’ why there weren’t any stone fragments on the carpet from when I woke up, and he said that there were this invention called a vacuum cleaner, which could clean carpets. I mean, duh. Wait a minute. Why would there have been stone fragments on the carpet?”

Owen’s eyes widen at what she just said, before he exercises his willpower to narrow them. “Interesting question, Dr. Mallory,” he says.

“Yeah, something doesn’t add up.”

“Gen-U-Tech has always steamed forward into uncharted territory,” says Owen. “Excuse me, Dr. Mallory. I must join Colonel Tanzic for dinner.”

“Sure. Listen, be careful around him.”

After Owen leaves, Scarlett wishes she can have one dinner with Fang, showing off her pregnant belly.

Oooooooooooo

The sun sets, and cracks appear on Goran’s stone form, which is standing up instead of kneeling with his wings caped as he usually us. The yes glow white, and the outer layer of the stone skin bnurstsd off even as the gargoyle roars.

“Good evening, my friend,” Serge Tanzic says to him.

“Any update on our search for the missing vermin?” asks Goran.

“We are still searching,” replies Tanzic. “we are certain she nor her children have left the area.”

“She is a threat.”

“We also have other priorities, my friend. We must have dinner with Owen Burnett.  And we must pack our things and prepare to relocate.”

“Yes, of course. Moving up the timetable was much effort, but it can be done.”

“I am sure everything’s ready. Let us now focus on dinner with our guest.”

ooooooooooo

One of the orderlies working the graveyard shift checks on the nursery. She is from a land called Estonia. She has the duty to check on these unusual babies. She is paid at least three times what a woman of similar education and experience would get in Estonia.

She turns and notices two winged figures.

She had met Goran, the winged creature called a gargoyle. While these two have roughly the same shape, one head, two arms, two legs, two wings, and a tail, neither of them look like Goran.

She does know they are not allowed to be here.

Sghe presses a button to sound an alarm.

Oooooooo

Goran climbs up to thE rooftop of the main building.

“We’re in contact with the intruders,” he hears a guard say over a headset that he is wearing.

“Copy, replies the gargoyle. “I will glide in the surrounding area to find any possible reinforcements these intruders have.”

Goran spreads his wings and jumps off, letting the air currents kept him aloft. He scans the shadowed woods surrounding the compound. He is familiar with the landscape, often going out on a glide at night. This is no pleasure glide, though.

He makes sure to look around, a habit that he had learned when fighting in the Yugoslav Civil War. He looks through his thermal-vision monocular.

There is something at the edge of the woods. From his experience, the thermal profile appears to be that of a human.

That could be one of the guards patrolling the exterior for any suspicious activity that might threaten the research facility.

Goran glides down, landing nearby.

“Who is there?” he heard a voice say in English. “Goliath? Angela? What did you find over there?”

There is no doubt.

This human is working with the intruders.

The gargoyle finds higher ground and climbs a tree.

Goran glides forward, using his wings to slow his descent and guide himself.

He glides towards the human silhouette, grabbing the human.

He then manages to find an updraft, lifting him and his “passenger” high enough to clear the wall of the compound.

He then lands in the front courtyard; two of the human guards run up to meet him.

“She works with the intruders,” he says.

He takeas a look at the human that he had caught. Female, dark hair, slightly darker skin, with a red jacket over her torso. She certainly does not look like she has Bosnian ancestry.

“They captured the intruders,” says one of the guards. “They are gargoyles.”

“And she works with them,” says Goran.


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Serge Tanzic makes jhis move to take over Gen-U-Tech's research facility in Bosnia. Can Scarlett survive?

> **Chapter 26**
> 
> **  
> May 28, 1996**
> 
>  
> 
> Scarlett Mallory had been hiding under her desk since the alarm went off. She had been working late, her mind going over the latest data, which is almost as effective in keeping her awake as three cups of coffee. She certainly is no fighter, especially as there is someone inside her own body.
> 
> “Rachel, you okay?” she asks.
> 
> “Fine, just ducking and covering,” answers Dr. Rachel Weinberg.
> 
> They hear the door open.
> 
> “Come with us,” they hear a voice say.
> 
> For a moment the two assistant geneticists wonder if the intruders are here. Rachel takes a peek and sees two men in guard uniforms.
> 
> “They’re okay,” says Rachel.
> 
> Both she and Scarlett accompany the two men.
> 
> Ooooooooo
> 
> Goran takes the human ally of the intruders inton the main building, going down into the basement level. He walks into the chemical storage room.
> 
> He recognizes his longtime friend Serge. He also sees two figures manacled against the back wall.
> 
> They are gargoyles, though neither of them he had ever met.
> 
> “ah, Goran my friend,” says Serge.
> 
> “We caught her snooping outside the compound,” he replies.
> 
> “You have a gargoyle working for you?” asks one of the gargoyle prisoners.
> 
> Goran glances at the captive. Long brown hair, lavender skin, a huge build, about his age. The garghoyle wears but a loin cloth, in contrast to Goran wearing a flak jacket and short pants. The other gargoyle is an adolescent female with the same hair color and skin tone, wearing a dress.
> 
> “Serge and I knew each other since childhood,” answers Goran, though the question was directed to Serge. “My clan even fought alongside him and his men when Yugoslavia dissolved in to civil war, to protect our territory from the clan of humans known as Bosnians. They could never see death coming from above.”
> 
> “I have read about that war. Your clan…your clan’s desire to protect has been corrupted.”
> 
> “Corrupted,” says Serge. “Look at my face. See this scar. This scar is because of them!”
> 
> “It was war,” says the human female captive.
> 
> “No. This was when I was boy. Some Bosnian youths sliced my face with a razor, merely because I was Serb. Now I will have a chance to finally rid this place of this filth. And I will have a loyal cadre of followers. Ironic they were born from Bosnian whores.”
> 
> “There is the matter of what to do about you,” Owen Burnett says to the dark-haired human. “Detective Maza, your badge is but a cheap piece of metal here in Bosnia. I suppose you can all be turned over to the authorities here. I do look forward to seeing how this affects your life. A detective with the New York City Police Department, leaving without notice to travel to a war zone. I am sure Captain Chavez will be thrilled. And as for the two gargoyles, maybe the Bosnians can recruit them; the current peace is uneasy and they might want strong warriors in case the war starts back up.
> 
> “Or maybe you two will be their lab rats.”
> 
> “Do not worry, Owen Burnett,” says Serge. “I know exactly what to do.”
> 
> He grabs Owen’s right arm, and then kicks his right leg up as he brings the arm down. The foprce is more than enough to cause a compound fracture, a shapr piece of radius sticking out through the skin, shirt sleerve, and coat sleeve of Owen’s right arm.
> 
> Goran goes outside the chemical supply room, meerting two guards as well as some researchers. He grans the red-haired researcher- Scarlett, he remembers her name- and throws her into the chemical supply room. The guards also shove other researchers in to the room.
> 
> “What are you doing?” asks Dr. Scarlett Mallory.
> 
> “I will take the infants with me,” says Tanzic. “I have loyalists in Serbia. When we resume our war, we will overrun Bosnia, and cleanse the land of this vermin. This compound was built with a self-destruct device. I will set timer and blow this place up.”
> 
> “So you’re going to leave us here to die,” says Mallory. “I…I’ll never meet my baby.”
> 
> “Leave you here to die?” asks the former Yugoslav colonel. “You mean we leave you here alive?”
> 
> “That’s how it goes in the movies, you know,” answers the assistant geneticist.
> 
> “Well, I will just shoot you all and let the explosion incinerate your bodies,” says Serge, lifting up the AK-47.
> 
> Scarlett can only look.
> 
> She is about to die.
> 
> She briefly wonders if Fang could avenge her.
> 
> Sher sees the raven-haired woman Owen had called Detective Maza, run up to Serge.
> 
> Maza and Tanzic struggle over the AK-47.
> 
> There is a burst of gunfire.
> 
> And then the sound of glass shattering.
> 
> Scarlett glances and sees that Tanxzic fell into one of the glass chemical supply cabinets.
> 
> Detective Maza unlocks the manacles of the other prisoners even as the huge lavender gargoyle grabs Tanzic’s AK-47.
> 
> No one has a desire to stay in the chemical supply room.
> 
> Oooooooooo
> 
> The mutate babies are loaded into one of the trucks, all specially designed for transporting the infants. A guard starts the engine and puts the truck in gear. Soon, its tires roll along the ground as the truck leaves the compound.
> 
> Above in the night sky, Goran glides overhead, looking at the truck as well as a Jeep.
> 
> “Where’s Serge?” he asks, speaking into a microphone connected to the radio.”
> 
> “We can not find him,” says the human guard. “The place is set to blow.”
> 
> “This is Hawkeye to Baby Carriage,” says Goran. “I am heading back to Nursey to look for Chief babysitter.”
> 
> “He is not at safety point?” asks the driver of the truck whose callsign is Baby Carriage.
> 
> Goran glides back to the compound, briefly recalling the battles against the Bosnians during the civil war. He also briefly remembers the clan members who fell in combat to rid their protectorate of the Bosnians.
> 
> He soon lands on the rooftop of the main building.
> 
> Oooooo
> 
> “This should be it,” says Dr. Scarlett Mallory, reaching the garage. There are still several vehicles inside, though other vehicles are clearly gone. The alarm keeps blaring.
> 
> “And we can escape through here,” says Detective Maza.
> 
> “We must wait for Angela,” says the lavender gargoyle.
> 
> “Of course,” replies the police detective.
> 
> Scarlett sits in the driver’s seat. “It’s gonna be a tight fit, and I don’t want to harm my baby,” she says.
> 
> Oooooooo
> 
> Meanwhile, Dr. Rachel Weinberg enters the radio room on the top floor of the main building. With her are Owen Burnett and the female gargoyle. The radio room has all sorts of equipment, many with light-emitting diode indicators.
> 
> “We need to contact help,” says Owen, in a flat tone despite the pain from the compound fracture of his right arm.
> 
> “You need treatment,” says Dr. Weinberg.
> 
> “That panel,” says Owen, looking at the gargoyle. “Turn than knob until it reads one two zero five.”
> 
> The gargoyle turns a knob on the device. She sees some numbers change on an red LED readout. Soon the number reads 120.5 MHz.
> 
> “Tell them this is the Nursery, ask for Stork,” says Owen. “The place will blow, and we need help.”
> 
> “Hello?” a voice asks.
> 
> “This is Nursery,” says the gargoyle. “Stork, this is Nursery. The place is going to blow. We need you to get us out of here.”
> 
> “Copy, Nursery,” says the voice whose callsign is Stork. “We are on our way.”
> 
> Oooooooo
> 
> Scarlett sees Rachel and Owen and that female gargoyle approach the garage.
> 
> “Good to see you here, Rachel,” says Dr. Mallory, sitting in the driver’s seat of a Jeep.
> 
> “Looks light it will be a tight fit,” says Dr. Weinberg.
> 
> She, Owen, and the young gargoyle get inside the Jeep; it is a tight fit. Owen sits in the front seat due to his broken arm.
> 
> “Let’s hope the mechanic wasn’t asleep on the job,” says Dr. Mallory.
> 
> She starts the engine and puts the Jeep in gear. She does not hesitate to drive towards the open gate of the compound.
> 
> Just minutes after they leave, Scarlett hears the sound of an explosion, and feels the ground rumble.
> 
> “There’s some people we need to meet,” says Detecticve Maza.
> 
> “Well, there’s not many places for us to visit,” replies the assistant geneticist.
> 
> Soon, Scarlett parks the Jeep, which had been designed to handle off-road travel very well. She sees the detective and her two gargoyle companions meet a woman and her children. She soon realizes that the woman is Azra, one of the surrogates. Azra is clearly carrying her mutate baby, wrapped in swaddling clothes, in her arms.
> 
> “I want to thank you,” Scarlett says to Detective Maza. “We would have died. My baby would have died.” She places a hand on her belly. “I wish I knew how to repay you.”
> 
> “We had better get to the rendezvous point with our rescue,” says Owen, sitting down even as the two human doctors are treating his broken arm.
> 
> “I will go with them,” says Azra. “I will go with them to this Avalon place.”
> 
> Owen’s eyes widen in surprise, something that rarely ever happens.
> 
> Azra and her children leave the the two gargoyles and the police detective. Not long afterward, a helicopter arrives rto pick the others up.
> 
> Ooooooooo
> 
> **May 29, 1996**
> 
> Centered on Wisconsin Avenue and M Street, Georgetown is the prosperous neighborhood of Washington, D.C., home to lobbyists and high government officials. The commercial districts are bustling, even at night.
> 
> Residences tend to be of the Federal architecture design. In one of the expensive-looking houses, Duval speaks to Peredur fab Ragnal, using a communication system that not even the National Security Agency could monitor, even the though the NSA had magical resources, albeit that few within the NSA are even aware of the magical nature of some the monitoring tools that they have.
> 
> “Xanatos lost the Bosnia nursery,” says Duval. “the head of security there went rogue.”
> 
> “This will be quite a setback,” replies Ragnal.
> 
> “Setbacks are sadly something far too common in our line of work, my friend. Xanatos still has the facility in Tanzania.”
> 
> Ragnal recalls recent events. There were so many women, having lost everything in ethnic cleansing campaigns in central Africa, who would be willing to be surrogates so that they, and their children, could be set for life in a first world country.
> 
> “We may still be able to use the bio weapons born in the Bosnia facility,” says Ragnal. “Serge Tanzic will serve us, whether he knows it or not.”
> 
> Ooooooooo
> 
> Dr. Rachel Weinberg sleeps soundly inside the cabin of a Boeing 737 flying from Orly to JFK.
> 
> Scarlett can not sleep despite feeling exhausted.
> 
> She worries about the future.
> 
>  


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How will Fang react when he learns that Scarlett is pregnant?

**May 29, 1996**

 The warehouse just blocks from the docks in Manhattan are under new ownership; its previous owners selling to place to avoid having to pay thousands of dollars in property taxes. Already, people are gathered inside.

The interior looks very plain, with red brick walls. Incandescent lamps hang from the ceiling, creating a pattern of shadows on the brick walls.

Lou and Chaz stand guard. It had been months since that incident down in the Labyrinth. They were lucky they had managed to find this new gig for this up-and-coming crime boss from Europe.

The two of them recognize the visitors, both of them black men. They are Big Mike and his aide-de-camp, Cedric.

A much lighter skinned man  with brown hair and a white shirt greets the visitors. “I am glad you are willing to talk business with me,” Tomas Brod says in this thick Eastern European accent.

“Yeah, that’s right,” replies Big Mike. “I mean, Dracon’s gotten weak since he was sent up the river. Sure, he has some of his homies out here, runnin’ his rackets, but it’s a new opportunity for fresh blood. And Dracon, He was a serious price gouger. You offer me an’ my homies are better deal, and we’ll roll with you.”

“Of course,” replies Brod, trying to get used to the local cant of the criminal underworld of New York City. It had been months since he was taken down in Prague, thanks to some winged creatures and this magical clay animated doll.

“Yo, Lou, Chaz,” says Cedric. “How’s it going?”

“Uh, great, dawg,” replies Lou.

“You know these two?” asks Brod.

“They used to work with this homie named Fang,” replies Big Mike. “Weird G, wore a cat costume.”

Brod’s eyes widen.

“Hey man, it’s New York,” continues the gangbanger. “But he got taken down.”

“Now we work for Mr. Brod,” says Chaz.

The gangsters continue their negotiations.

Oooooooooo

**May 30, 1996**

Dr. Scarlett Mallory walks through the halls of the Labyrinth, escorted by Maggie Reed. She had felt nervously even before setting foot out of her current residence in New York. The place still looks familiar to her, even after an absence of over a third of a year.  The weather outside is significantly warmer than when she had last left New York; the assistant geneticist wears a short sleeve blouse.

Soon, the two women stop in this large room.

“You have a visitor,” says Maggie.

Scarlett looks into a holding cell, with glass walls. Inside she sees Fang, still looking the same, with a general humanoid shape, the cougar-like head,  brown fur. He wears a white sleeveless shirt and blue shorts. Two wings are attached to his back by the shoulders.

Fang looks at Scarlett. He can hardly believe that she is back. She still has the same crimson red hair.

And she has a huge belly.

He sits down, processing what he had just seen.

She walks up to his cell, with the very bulge of her pregnant belly slightly touching the glass.

“I…I did that,” Fang says softly. “We…we did that.”

“Yes,” replies Scarlett. “I found out when I was in Bosnia.”

“Is the baby?”

“the baby is all right. Gen-U-Tech is taking care of me.”

Fang is even more captivated by Scarlett’s bulging pregnant belly than he is by the glass walls of his cells.

That pregnant belly is so beautiful, second only to the sight of her sweet vulva.

Memories surface, memories of the feeling of her bare skin against his fur.

Memories of running his hands through her crimson red hair.

Memories of licking and squeezing her tits.

Memories of her sopping wet vagina wrapped around his erect, throbbing penis.

Memories of his climax, as his mutated nuts explode, sending his seed into her fertile womb, sperm that fertilized one of her fresh eggs.

He never gave much thought on fatherhood.

What kind of a father could he be?

Ooooooo

**_1980_ **

_“I’ve been wonderin’ why you don’t have a daddy, Freaky Freddy,” said one of the boys._

_“Yeah,” asked another boy. “Where’s your daddy?”_

_“I don’t want to talk about it,” said Fred._

_“I know why your daddy left you and your mommy,” said the first boy. “It’s because you’re such a fuckin’ faggot. He was so ashamed that he made a faggot, he ran away!”_

_The other buys started laughing, along with making chants of “Freaky Freddy” and “Faggot” and “Loser” and “Dweeb” and “Queer” and“Fist Fucker”._

_“Hey, Freaky Freddy,” said the first boy. “I was fucking your mommy’s pussy and busted my nuts in her now she’s having a baby. I bet your brother’s not gonna grow up to be a fuckin’ faggot like you!”_

_“Shut up!” Fred cried impotently._

_“You know what? That makes me your stepdaddy. And I’m gonna punish my stepson for bein’ a queer!”_

_He begins by socking Fred hard in the stomach._

Ooooo

Fang still remembers his mother yelling into the phone, demanding child support, child support that never came.

He then looks at Scarlett, the woman who gave all to him, the woman who will have his child.

What kind of father can he be?

“Does anyone else know?” asks Fang. “Does your dad know?”

“No, of course not,” answers Scarlett. “I mean, what am I supposed to say?”

“Yeah, I can’t imagine ya telling yer dad that some man mutated with cat and bat and eel DNA knocked up his little girl with a furry baby. What a conversation that would be!”

“I suppose I could just say I’m a surrogate and turn the baby over to Gen-U-Tech.”

“Turn over the baby?”

“Yes. I mean, I..we…can’t give the baby a normal life. Are we supposed to take the baby out in a stroll through the park? Enroll the child in school? These babies will be raised to be soldiers for the U.S. and our allies. They can take care of them.”

“Babies?” asks the cougarman mutate. “You don’t have twins growin’ inside ya, do ya?”

“No. the facility in Bosnia…we were employing war refugees as surrogates to give birth to mutate bio weapon babies.”

“Well, don’t say it out, loud, babe. It’s probably classified and you could spend the next twenty years in federal prison or somethin’.”

“I’m sure Gen-U-Tech and the Pentagon have facilities to take care of the baby. We can’t give the baby a family.”

Fang sits down in his cell. He can still remember his own father leaving, the telephone calls his mother had over overdue child support.  In the early days, he sometimes had cried himself to sleep, blaming himself for his father leaving.

Leaving his baby, his child, is something more like what Freaky Freddy would do than what Fang would do.

“Can…should we abandon our baby?” he meekly asks.

“Take care, my love,” says Scarlett.

Ooooooooooo

**June, 1996**

The elevator doors open, and Scarlett steps out. She walks along with Owen Burnett.

“I want to thank you for convincing Mr. Xanatos to meet with me,” says the assistant geneticist.

“You should thank Mr. Xanatos,” Owen says dryly.

They walk through the hallways and arrive at the door to David Xanatos’s office. Owen knocks on the door with his stone fist.

The door is opened, and the two of them see David Xanatos, dressed in his charcoal gray suit.

“Ah, Dr. Mallory,” says the billionaire industrialist. “Pleasure to meet you again.”

Xanatos looks at Owen, who now sports a cast on his right arm, due to Serge Tanzic’s double-cross in Bosnia. He then sits behind his desk.

“I have come to discuss a request, sir,” says the assistant geneticist.

“What is it?”

“I request that you rescue Fang from the Labyrinth,” says Scarlett.

“And what do you have to offer in exchange?”

“The baby inside me. You can use a test subject, and the baby can grow up to fight in the military. You must know you lost the babies born in Bosnia.”

“Do you think the facility in Bosnia is the only facility of its kind Gen-U-Tech has?”

“What? There are others.”

“Of course,” replies Xanatos. “and you will still give the baby to Gen-U-Tech, regardless of what we do about Sykes. There is nowhere else you can go that can handle your unique medical condition, nowhere else for your baby to go.”

“But..”

The billionaire industrialist stands up, placing his hand on Scarlett’s shoulder. “Dr. Mallory…Scarlett,” he says.  “We can offer you a job looking after the babies, including the one growing inside you. We’ll even back up your cover story of volunteering to be a surrogate. We _can_ replace you if we need to. Never forget that. But it would be much better for all of us  if you could stay on board our team.”

“A baby…needs a daddy as well as a mommy.”

“ _Human_ babies. As for Sykes, he showed such promise. But he failed to live up to his promise.

“Perhaps if you find something else to being to the table, I will reconsider. But otherwise, Sykes is not our problem. This meeting is over.”

Oooooooooooo

Scarlett lies down on her bed, in the new apartment she managed to get, thanks to Gen-U-Tech’s relocation assistance services, with “Black Hole Sun” by Soundgarden radiating from the featherweight headphones that she is wearing

 She could not bear to visit Fang and tell him that Xanatos will not be coming to his rescue.

She pats her growing pregnant belly.

She thinks of the life growing inside her.

What kind of life could she provide?

And yet, could she really just give up the baby?


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mysterious prisoner is confined inn the cell next to Fang.

**August, 1996**

Fang wakes up in his cell in the Labyrinth beneath the streets of Manhattan to the sounds of screaming.

“What’s going on?” he asks.

He looks to his right, at the neighborhood cell, seeing a pale-skinned woman with crimson red hair, like Scarlett’s.

Outside his cell, he can see the lavender gargoyle named Angela, now turned to stone. The pantherman mutate Talon stands guard.

“They were right,” he says.

The woman in the cell next to him had been a gargoyle, with the wings, feet, and talons. The gargoyle known as Demona has light blue skin. For some reason,. Her gargoyle form had looked very familiar.

The big lavender gargoyle named Goliath had said that Demona transforms into a human during the day due to sorcery.

He wonders what is going on.

Ooooooo

Scarlett Mallory stands at the front door of her family home in Cherry Hill, New Jersey. The door opens and she sees her father, who gives her a hug. He looks at his daughter’s pregnant belly.

“I find it hard to believe,” he says. “Being a surrogate.”

“Gen-U-Tech offers fertility and surrogacy services,” says Scarlett, stepping into the living room of her family home.

“I wish I had something better than frozen meals, especially since you’re eating for two.”

She walks into the living room, where there is a wide-screen television.

“I never thought you would be a surrogate,” continues her dad. “ I mean, you don’t even had children of your own yet. And I was looking forward to being a grandpa.”

“It just feels like the right thing to do, you know.”

“I can tell yer hidin’ somethin’.”

Scarlett’s heart skips a beat. “Really?”

“Oh, of course,” replies her dad. “I mean, there’s a lot of patient confidentiality. Plus, I know Gen-U-Tech has quite a few defense contracts, and the consequences for revealing secrets are severe, to say the least. I am sure the baby will be well taken care of.”

“Yeah, I believe that.”

“Well, I do think you would make a good mother to your baby, just as your mother was good to you.”

“Thanks, Dad. Anything to eat? I’m hungry.”

Oooooooooo

**September, 1996**

Fang has been counting the days since he was imprisoned. Over the past month since Demona was imprisoned, he had learned so much. About her, and the gargoyle clan working with the NYPD.

He heard tales of this Illuminati Society by this ginger detective.

He heard tales about Goliath, Angela, and Elisa visiting this magical island called Avalon, which sent them around the world. He heard tales of golems, aliens, and even mutate babies born in a research facility in Bosnia.

And he heard tales of the Fair Folk, the Third Race.

It frightens him a little, more so than those schoolyard bullies sixteen years ago. One of these Fair Folk could easily and instantly reverse his mutation with but a gesture.

Or turn him into a giant garden slug.

Or turn him inside out.

If any of these Fair Folk were only a thousand miles away, it would be too close.

Right now, the tigerman mutate Claw keeps watch, and the stone form of that gargoyle faggot Brooke Lynne stands watch as well.

He looks and sees Scarlett and Maggie at the entrance to this cell block. Scarlett walks towards his cell.

Or rather, waddles towards his cell. Her pregnant belly must have doubled in size!

“How are you feelin’, babe?” asks Scarlett.

“I got food and a roof over my head,” replies the cougarman mutate. “I mean, as jails go, it’s not as bad as the others.”

“Who’s that lady?” asks Scarlett, looking at the red-haired woman in the adjacent cell. “Are these people runnin’ a private prison?”

“Maybe,” replies Fang. “I mean, maybe the Pack will occupy the remainin’ cells, ya know.”

He looks at notices that ginger detective, Matt Bluestone, step into the cell block.

“It’s almost time,” says Fang. “You are about to see somethin’ really cool.”

“I’ve seen gargoyles wake up,” replies Scarlett, resting her left hand on the stone form of Brooke Lynne.

“No, the lady in the cell next to me.”

Scarlett looks at the woman. Crimson red hair like her own, a haltertop, and a short skirt. Almost looks Like something a warrior lady from a sword-and-sorcery film would wear.

Suddenly, Demona screams. Scarlett looks and sees the woman double over in pain. Demona’s skin tuerns light blue, her feet seem to grow longer, and wings grow out of her back, near the shoulders.

Demona’s eyes glow red, and she makes this high-pitched scream.

“What?” asks the assistant geneticist.

“She turns human, instead of a stone statue, during the day,” says Detective Bluestone.

“Wow,” says Scarlett. “Maybe Ron Jeremy could cast her in one of his films.”

Demona faces the other gargoyle. “Brooklyn,” she says. “You’re still here.”

“Brooke Lynne?” asks Scarlett. “What a faggotty name!”

She and Fang laugh.

Brooke Lynne starts feeling a little embarrassed.

“I never knew gargoyles could have limp wrists,” says the assistant geneticist.

“Hey Brooke Lynne!” yells Fang. “Got AIDS yet?!”

He and Scarlett continue laughing at the brick-red gargoyle.

Scarlett, after her laughter fades, notices that pantherman mutate Talon, along with this old man.

Fang notices the old man too. The old man has white hair and a beard, and wears a trench coat over his torso.

“MacBeth,” says Demona.

“Now you are here,” replies the man called MacBeth, in his thick Scottish accent. “Completely helpless.”

Demona’s eyes glow red.

“I could end it all,” says MacBeth. “For the both of us.”

She is frightened. She looks at the others in the room, none of who seem interested in stopping the immortal Scotsman.

He reaches into his trench coat.

Demona wonders if everything she has planned for her vengeance against humanity will come to an end.

MacBeth shows an empty hand.

“All you have is your desire for vengeance,” he says. “I have found a new purpose in life. I have no desire to kill you…to kill myself. You…you have no clan.”

Demona replies with a laugh. “You don’t know me,” she says. “Not even after nine hundred years.”

“Hello there.”

Fang instantly knows that this voice came neither from Demona nor MacBeth. He looks and sees a bearded man in a trench coat. His face is clearly different from that of MacBeth’s, and his hair is blonde.

“Is this National Trench Coat day?” asks the cougarman mutate.

“Who are you?” asks Brooke Lynne.

“I have a message,” says the even more mysterious visitor. “For him.”

Scarlett can see that the man is pointing directly at Fang.

“What do ya want with me?” asks Fang.

“I know about you, Sykes,” says the blond-haired man. “I have a message for you Do you want redemption?”

“Yeah, I want redemption outta this fuckin’ cell!” He bangs his fist against the glass wall.

“It is a long road to redemption. You have motivation, to be a better man than you ever were, especially now that there are others counting on you. I can offer you the path, but you must choose to walk it.”

The man then turns to look at the blue gargoyle in the next cell. “I know of your reputation, Demona. The road to your redemption is a very long road, much longer than any I’ve ever known.”

Memories that seem recent surface in the visitor’s mind. He can still recall how a forbidden love led to the downfall of everything he cared about it.

And how he had to part ways with people he had considered his closest friends.

He sought his own redemption as much as he offered it to others, like this hunter and this disgraced television star.

He walks to leave the cell block. Brooke Lynne walks after him, wanting to ask him more questions.

But the man disappeared.

“Where did he go?” asks the brick-red gargoyle.

“This place sure gets a lotta interestin’ people,” says Scarlett. “Anyway, time to waddle my big belly back home.”

“Ya know where to find me,” says Fang.

Oooooooooo

Lou and Chaz walk out on the streets of Manhattan. They are wary of anyone that might flash a badge and place them under arrest.

“It was a nice gig while it lasted,” says Lou.

“Maybe we’ll come across a store with one of them HELP WANTED signs,” replies Chaz. Tomas Brod had been shut down by the NYPD, after his failed attempt to murder Tony Dracon. With his assets frozen, there is no way his underlings like Lou and Chaz  could get paid.

No choice for them but to scrape by until another opportunity arrives.

Ooooooo

**September 30, 1996**

Scarlett is eating a pepperoni pizza in her Manhattan apartment, watching a rerun of _Full House_ , when it happened.

She feels a wetness trickle down her thighs.

It means only one thing.

Her water broke.

Just half an hour later, she is inside a Gen-U-Tech ambulance.


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scarlett gives birth to a furry little baby boy with wings. Can she give up the baby?

**October 1, 1996**

Dr. Scarlett Mallory is the patient, once again. She lies down on a table in Gen-U-Tech Headquarters in Manhattan. Dr. Chang, her obstetrician, inspects closely.

“Cervix dilated at ten centimeters,” she says. “I can see the head.”

In a neighboring observation room, Dr. Rachel Weinberg watches as her friend goes into labor. Standing next to her is Owen Burnett from Castle Wyvern and Mr. Duval and U.S. Navy Captain Nathan Silverblum from the Pentagon. A camera crew is filming this.

After all, this is a landmark scientific experiment.

“I can feel the contractions,” says Scarlett, even as the pain in her belly grows bigger.

“Okay, Scarlett,” says Dr. Chang. “Push.”

And she does, her uterine muscles pushing against the baby inside. The pregnant woman grits her teeth and pushes and pushes. She feels something furry rubbing against the sides of her vagina, her birth canal.

And then she hears crying.

“He’s a boy!” yells Dr. Chang. She clamps down the umbilical cord and cuts, it, and hands the infant to Scarlett.

She looks and holds her newborn son. He is covered in brown fur as expected.

What she did not expect was a human face. Not a feline face, a human face.

She is smitten.

She is in love.

She is a mother.

A mother.

The concept is mind blowing.

She experiences more contractions. Soon, the placenta emerges. Dr. Chang , using latex-gloved hands, places the placenta into a plastic container with biohazard markings.

Rachel and the others can only watch in silence. Scarlett and her baby are soon wheeled out of the room.

“I find this hard to believe,” says Silverblum.

“Well, I’ve gotta run tests on that placenta,” says Dr. Weinberg.

Exhausted, Scarlett and her baby boy sleep inside a room being used as a makeshift maternity ward.

Oooooo

**October 2, 1996**

Owen Burnett walks through the open door and into the Labyrinth’s cell block. He notices the big lavender gargoyle Goliath.

“What do you want?’ asks the leader of the Manhattan clan.

“I have a message for Mr. Sykes,”  replies Owen. “The mutate doing business as Fang.”

“Go ahead.”

Owen walks to the glass-walled cell holding the cougarman mutate.

“Whadda ya want?” asks Fang. “Are ya gonna tell me Xanatos isn’t breakin’ me out? I know that.”

“And Mr. Xanatos has not reconsidered his decision,” Owen answers dryly. “I am here to inform you that Dr. Scarlett Mallory delivered a baby boy yesterday.”

“What?” Fang’s mutate heart races. “She..she had the baby?”

“She requests your help in naming your son.”

After a few seconds, Owen glances at the next cell. He sees Demona, her eyes flashing red.

“Oh, Demona,” he says. “I barely even noticed you there.”

Owen leaves the cell block. Fang sits down silently, trying to process the fact that he is now a father.

oooooooooo

**October 8, 1996**

Scarlett puts the baby to sleep. The assistant geneticist and new mother spends most of her time at Gen-U-Tech Headquarters. She obviously could not take the baby to and from the lab. The lab has all of the equipment and supplies needed for the baby’s medical care.

She wonders how her baby will develop, since there is absolutely no scientific precedent. Will the baby fully develop the mutations as he grows, being able to fly and fire electric bolts? Will the baby;s mutation reverse, and become a normal adult human male? Or somewhere in bertween, like the mutates were in their halfwasy stages, unable to fly nor discharge electricity?

“Dr. Mallory,” says Owen Burnett, walking into the maternity ward, still sporting his trademark suit. “How are you and your son doing?”

“Fine,” says Scarlett. “Both Dr. Chang and Dr. Weinberg have done tests. My boy’s healthy.”

“The child will be fine for now here at Gen-U-Tech Headquarters,” says Owen. “But it will not be the best environment for the child later in life. We still have the facility in Tanzania- that’s in eastern Africa- and the security there is loyal to Xanatos Enterprises. Already, baby bio weapons are being raised there by caring, attentive, well-paid staff. And you can be part of that staff.”

“Really?” asks Scarlett.

“Mr. Xanatos will not separate parents from their children if he can help it. If you wish to accompany your son to Tanzania, we’ll make all transportation arrangements.”

Suddenly, the baby starts crying and Scarlett holds her son. “Maybe we can move in a few months. My son is different, even from those born in Tanzania. We still need to monitor him.”

“Genetics and medicine are your specialty, Dr. Mallory,” says Owen.

Ooooooo

**October 13, 1996**

“Hey, yo Goliath!” yells Fang, banging on the glass wall of his cell. “How many gargoyles does it take to screw in a light bulb, huh?”

The big lavender gargoyle just frowns at the cougarman mutate.

“Well,” says Demona, “If it isn’t my judge and jury.”

“You chose your own fate, Demona,” replies Goliath, “when you turned against your own clan.”

“Clan. You don’t know the meaning of the word. But I’ll teach you.”

Suddenly, the whole cell block is shaking. Fang wonders what is going on.

And then the ceiling collapses, the rubble covering Goliath and Talon

He briefly wonders if Xanatos has come to rescue him.

And then he sees a winged figure land on the floor. He is clearly a gargoyle, with white hair and black skin. He wears a suit of armor over his torso, unlike Goliath who merely wore a loincloth.

“I hope I haven’t come at a bad time,” says the gargoyle.

“Thailog my love,” says Demona, “your timing is impeccable.”

Thailog shoots the bars with a particvler-beam cannon, and Demoa escapes through the opening, hugging her lover.

Demona takes the cannon and aims it towards Fang.

“Hey Demona,” protests Fang. “I’ve always respected you as a fellow inmate.” He covers himself in a bedsheet. “Some of my friends are half-human half-gargoyle vamps with bad attitudes!”

He hears the glass shatter.

“He’s a fool,” says Demona, “But he can be of some use.”

“I can live with that,” says Fang.

Both Demoa and Thailog leave.

“Hey, wait up!” yells Fan, flying up the hole.

Scarlett arrives just after Talon and Goliath go up the hole in the ceiling.

“Fang?” she asks, looking at empty cell with the shattered glass walls.

Ooooooo

Fang follows Demona and Thailog to some amusement park in Coney Island. It had been a very long time since he had been to a place like those.

The two gargoyles enter a funhouse. Fang enters, hoping none of those Fair Folk the gargoyles mentioned are inside.

What he sees inside startles him.

It was not the mirrors or the garish  decorations that startled him.

There are more gargoyles, all different colors.

“So this is yer clan,” says Fang.

“Yes,” replies Thailog.

Fang squints his feline eyes. These gargoyles, thougb colored and dressed differently, have the  same shape as the gargoyles in Goliath’s clan! Although the green gargoyle with the beak-like snout is not as limp wristed as Brooke Lynne.

He looks at Thailog again. And Thailog does look just like Goliath.

“They’ll come after us,” says Demona.

“we will be ready.”

“You think you could withstand a siege against the cops?” asks Fang. “I’m a wanted criminal; we should be halfway to the Caymans by now.”

“Wait a minute,” says Demona. “You think the gargoyles work with the police?”

“Well, yeah,” says Fang. “They work with that ginger detective and that goon Talon’s sister, and they live above a police station, and…”

“You really don’t know anything, do you?” asks Thailog.

He looks at the gargoyles. “Can I borrow some change for a phone call?” he asks.

“Sure.” The black gargoyle gives the cougarman mutate some change. He walks outside the building, among the various stalls used for games, until he finds a pay phone.

Even after all this time, he remembers Gen-U-Tech’s telephone number,. He inserts coins and dials the number.

“This is Gen-U-Tech headquarters,” says a female voice. “No operator is available, if you know your party’s exten-“

Fang hangs up the phone and walks back into the funhouse.

It is not too long before the trap is sprung.

Fang hides in a storeroom with all sorts of props. The door opens, and Talon and the old gargoyle enter the room.

“Remember me?” asks Fang before zapping Talon. He then looks at the geezer.

“Not tonight, pal,” says Fang. “We got a special surprise for you.”

The yellow gargoyle that looks like the geezer steps out and attacks him.

Soon Talon and the geezer are dragged away.

Not long afterwards, the others are captured. They are all restrained in this faux medieval dungeon.

Demona  introduces her clan as Brentwood, Hollywood, Malibu, and Burbank.

And then it happens.

Thailog aims with particle beam cannon at Angela, and Demona protests. Then there is an argument between Demona and Angela.

“I hate you,” says Angela.

Thailog tries to shoot Angela, but Demona stops him.

There is a struggle.

Thailog managed to knock Demona onto the faux stone floor.

“You disappoint me, my dear,” says Thailog. “Fortunately, I’ve prepared for such a development. Delilah!”

A hidden door opens, and a brown-skinned gargoyle steps out. She is clearly a female, with white hair. She wears a red shirt over her torso.

Fang looks at the gargoyle, who looks very familiar.

“Yes, Master Thailog,” says Delilah.

“Look familiar, my love?” Thailog asks Demona. “I combind your DNA with that of the human Elisa Maza to create Delilah. She’s the perfect programmed companion. Obedient and lovely. She’ll do anything for me.”

Fang’s jaw drops. He never expected that. He briefly wonders if Thailog will bring out a gargoyle version of that ginger detective Matt Bluestone, spouting off about the Luminary Society.

Delilah aims the particle cannon.

Demona then jumps and presses a release lever, freeing Goliath and company!

Fang knows better than to do anything else but run.

He flies off into the air, with Talon behind him.

He wonders if he should escape towards Castle Wyvern, or Gen-U-Tech Headquarters.

But he has a score to settle with Talon.

Once that score is settled, he can join Scarlett and his baby boy.

They fire electric blasts at each other while over a wooden roller coaster.

Fang flies high into the air.

He looks around for that pantherman mutate.

And then he is zapped by a bolt of electricity.

He falls to the ground.

And falls.

And falls.


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gargoyles are exposed to the public. How will Fang and Scarlett deal with this?

**October 25, 1996**

Fang sits back inside the cell that he had inhabited for the past nine months. It Had been a week and a half since his brief taste of freedom, following two rogue gargoyles.

And there are more of them. A green-skinned gargoyle named Malibu watches him.

“Whadda ya lookin’ at?” asks the cougarman mutate.

“You bad man,” replies Malibu.

“Who told ya that? Talon? Goliath? Brooke Lynne? You believe everythin’ you hear? Of course, Thailog programmed ya to be allergic to thinking. Well, maybe there’s hope for ya, kid. Maybe you won’t be turn out to be a limp-wristed faggot like yer predecessor.”

“What’s faggot?” asks  the gargoyle clone. “Are you faggot? Faggot! Faggot!”

Fang’s eyes roll back, followed by a face palm.

Ooooooo

Dr. Scarlett Mallory steps into her apartment. For the past few weeks since her child was born, she had been much of a patient as a doctor.  

She turns on the Maganvox color television. There is some Coca-cola advertisement on.

Then the WVRN logo appears.

“We interrupt this programming for a special report,” says an authoritative male voice.

A blond-haired man in a suit appears on the screen.

“This is Jon Carter with a WVRN special report,” he says, “with the destruction of the 23rd Precinct House with the monsters known as gargoyles.”

An image of gargoyles appear on the sxcreen. Scarlett recognizes them as the gargoyles that had guarded Fang’s cell.

“Urban myths no longer,” continues the reporter, “these creatures launched a completely unprovoked attack on our city’s finest.”

The report continues, with Carter interviewing New York Police Department Commissioner Howard Safir.

Ooooooo

**October 26, 1996**

Mr. Duval walks along the E-ring corridor inside the Pentagon in  Arlington, Virginia. He walks into a conference room.

He sees U.S. Navy Captain Nathan Silverblum inside, dressed in his Class “A” uniform, with the four one-inch stripes on his sleeve. He also sees rthe othersd in his staff- mostly men and women in their twenties.

“SecDef has a meeting scheduled in one hour,” says Duval. “What can you tell me about the gargoyle situation?”

“Gargoyles first started appearing in 1994, after Xanatos Enterprises relocated Castle Wyvern from Scotland to the top of the Eyrie Building in New York,” answers a man in a suit. “There have been still images, but no other proof that these were actual, living gargoyles. Most witness accounts claim the gargoyles were protecting them from street crime. You know, I spent all night looking…”

“Thank you.” Duval nods. New York City has had a reputation for a high crime rate since the early 1970’s.

“There are some legends that gargoyles turn to stone during the day,” says this young lady.

“We also know,” says another young man, “that the mystery broadcast that turned New York to stone at night was made by a gargoyle. I suspect that gargoyle works with Xanatos Enterprises, since the studio was owned by Xanatos. Xanatos may have connections with the other gargoyles, given the connection between the reconstruction of the castle and the sightings of the gargoyles. ”

“We shouldn’t speculate,” says Silverblum.

“Right now, speculating is all we can do,” says Duval. “Although I know that gargoyles have a protective nature. I would need more evidence than that news report for me to believe that these gargoyles attacked that police station.”

“And yet,” says the Navy captain, “a nature to protect can be corrupted.”

Duval thinks ahead towards the upcoming meeting with Secretary of Defense William J. Perry and other senior Defense officials about any national security threat these gargoyles may pose to the United States.

He also knows what he will have to speak with Peredur fab Ragnal about this.

Ooooooo

**November 6, 1996**

Inside the main ground floor room of a brownstone in Manhattan, “Macarena” is played over a stereo. Lou, Chaz, and Cedric brifly look around the room, seeing the crowd of people gathered here for a meeting regarding the gargoyle threat.

“I remember how them gargoyles got us kicked outta the Labyrinth,” says Chaz.

“And they took down Mr. Brod,” says Lou. “cost us our jobs.”

“I know what ya mean,” says Cedric, still looking pretty much the same with his corn-rows. “Me and my homies were doin’ a drive-by to avenge one of our homies, and then this big fat gargoyle got in the way. I waz lucky I didn end up in Rikers.”

“What about Big Mike?” asks Chaz.

“The cops sent him up river,” replies Cedric. “He didn’t snitch on me, though, which is why I’m here instead of Rikers or Attica. We homies never snitch on each other.”

“Macarena” ends. A man in his mid-twenties with brown hair shuts off the stereo.

“Attention!” barks the man, whose name is George, “Mr. Castaway will now begin his speech.”

A blond-haired moustachioed man walks up to the stage, flanked by a man and a woman in some sort of armor. He addresses Lou, Chaz, Cedric, and the others in the crowd.

“I know you are all reasonable people,” Mr. Castaway begins. “But we do not live in a reasonable world.

“Violence, racism, injustice. You struggle with the world’s problems and wind up feeling so alone. Now something alien and horrible has entered your world.”

Castaway rips off the tarp, revealing a stone statue of a frightening demonic form, with spikes coming out of its demonic face.

“Gargoyles!” yells the leader of the Quarrymen. He looks at the crowd, their fears riled up. “Are you afraid of this monster? Well, for once, you are not alone. Are you afraid these creatures will attack you while you sleep?”

Many yeses are said by the crowd.

“You are not alone in that fear. Are you afraid they will steal your children away?”

More yeses.  Castaway’s heart beats faster, as he approaches a climax.

“You are not alone! Do you believe these monsters must be stopped?”

The crowd yells yes and goes wild.

“You are not alone!” yells Castaway. “Join us. Join the Quarrymen! When you wear our hoods, believe me..” Castaway wears a hood over his blond-haired head….. “you are no longer alone!”

Lou, Chaz, and Cedric join the crowed in taking a hood and a sledgehammer.

“Take a hood. Take a hammer. You are all Quarrymen now!”

Ooooooo

“At least we ain’t gotten arrested,” says Cedric.

The night is still young.

And it hurts.

He, Lou, Chaz, and some others joined John Castaway himself in hunting a gargoyle. Apparently this gargoyle was with this woman who was defending him, and they tracked them to the ruins of the 23rd NYPD precinct house with the destroyed clock tower. They had him down, and were about to kill the woman when one of them team, a man named Vinnie, interfered, stopping Castaway. They are glad that they had all been able to get away.

“Still hurts, though,” says Lou, clutching his side.

“It’s not fair these gargoyles have wings,” says Chaz.

Ooooooooo

**November 7, 1996**

“Thank you for taking the time to meet us, boss,” says Lou.

He, Chaz, and Cedric are all inside John Castaway’s office in the Quarryman brownstone. It is a large office, with a finely-varnished wooden desk with a telephone and some papers on top, and a bookcase with plenty of books on the elft wall, and a wooden filing cabinet on the right wall.

“What request do you have?” asks the leader of the Quarrymen.

“There’s this buddy of ours, Fang, that’s being held captive in this place called the Labyrinth,” says Chaz. “Fang can be really helpful to our cause.”

Lou and Chaz briefly explain their mutated friend’s backstory.

“I know it sounds like some really weird shit,” says Cedric. “But it’s true. Fang will be a real useful homie to y’all.”

“Genetic mutation,” says Castaway. “Transformed into some cat-bat creature that flies and shoots electric bolts. It actually sounds plausible.”

“You believe that, sir?” asks George, his eyes widening.

“I have sources that confirm it is plausible.”

“So yer gonna send some Quarrymen down there to rescue our friend?” asks Lou.

“Let’s review your friend’s track record, by your own words,” says George. “He tried to take over this Labyrinth to become some crime kingpin. That same night, some gargoyles came in and overthrew him, locking him in a cell. Now he controls nothing.”

“Listen, G,” says Cedric. “It’s just a minor setback.”

“This Fang has genetic gifts, and accomplished jack shit. There’s no point in risking Quarrymen to break him out.”

“Mr. Castaway,” protests Chaz.

“I stand by George’s advice,” replies Castaway. 


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scarlett makes a deal to rescue Fang. Will it succeed?

**November 25, 1996**

Thanksgiving is soon, and many of the storefronts along the streets in Manhattan have been decorated with Thanksgiving-themed decorations. Many people walk the streets, wearing sweaters.

Drs. Scarlett Mallory and Rachel Weinberg are sitting at the patio of a coffee shop called Nightstone Coffee. Nightstone is a new brand, and opened up several locations in New York City alone, including Greenwich Village.

“Still worried about the baby?” asks Rachel, eating a bagel coated with orange-flavored cream cheese.

“Yeah,” replies Scarlett, sipping a cup of coffee. “Gotta visit him later today.”

“Well, it might be another two months before your son can move to that facility in Africa.”

“Yeah. At least he’ll have other children to play with.”

“You can’t exactly bring him to the playground here.”

“Why hello there?” they hear. “I must say, Nightstone coffee is  going to be real popular.”

They recognize the voice. The two women turn and see Dr. Anton Sevarius, wearing a blue coat.

With Sevarius are two men, one of them having some sort of ctybernetic implant on the left side of his face; Scarlett recognizes him as Mr. Duval from the Pentagon.

“Is your baby boy doing well, Dr. Mallory?” asks Dr. Sevarius.

“Yes,” replies Scarlett. “I’m going to spend time with him later.”

“There might be a small favor I would ask of you,” Duval says to Scarlett.

“What?” asks the assistant geneticist.

“Xanatos has been holding out on us. He’s been hiding some proprietary data that rightfully belongs to the Pentagon. Yiou have access to the lab.”

“And of course, you are going to do something for me?’

“We can reunite you with the father of your child.”

Scarlett’s ears perk up. She then sips the last of her coffee. “Tell me more.”

Ooooooo

**November 27, 1996**

It is late at night, the night before Thanksgiving. Many people make initial rpeparations for Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow.

Scarlett is making her own preparations. She is inside Gen-U-Tech Headquarters, sitting at her desk.

She looks at the monitor screen and sees the files.

“So this is the data,” she says. Using the mouse, she makes copies of the files wanted by Mr. Duval and copied them into a memory code.

She then does another touch up.

She looks to her right and sees her furry infant son, sleeping in an infant car seat.

She types  into a command line interface appearing in a winfow on the screen.

Scarlett takes a deep breath.

Once she does this, the bridges between her and Gen-U-Tech and the rest of Xanatos Enterprises will burn.

She presses enter.

Suddenly, red lights flash, and the fire alarms are on, blaring from the speakers. She recalls the fire drills she had attended more than once.

She looks at her baby, picks up the car seat, and leaves the office, walking down the hallway, and goes out through a door marked emergency exit. She briefly notices the few researchers and support astaff going to their assigned fire drill rendezvous points.

She leaves the presmises through a pedestrian gate. She sees a black Chevrolet Suburban parked across the street.

She opens the door and sees her contact sitting in the back seat, recognizing him as that Navy captain Nathan Silverblum.

“I’ll help you secure the car seat,” says the Navy SEAL captain. He and Scarlett secure the car seat using seat belts to the back seat of the Suburban.

Soon, the Suburban heads along the street, with fire trucks and ambulances heading in the opposite direction, lights flashing and sirens blaring.

“The data is in this memory card,” says Scarlett, holding up a little square plastic device that looks like memory cards used in Sony PlayStations. It is password protected. Only Fang and I know the password.”

“Very shrewd, Dr. Mallory,” says Silverblum. “It was not necessary. Mr. Duval has always kept his word, and he has no intention of breaking that habit.”

“So are you going to bust him out.”

“We’re working on the plan as we speak.”

Ooooooooooo

**November 28, 1996**

Today is Thanksgiving Day, and it is also another day for Fang inside his glass-walled cell in the Labyrinth. He looks at all the scorch marks he made in the wall.

He looks and sees the guard talk with one of the bums. That bum does not seem to be pulling guard duty.

Suddenly, the guard falls.

The bum approaches. He is a man with a scraggly brown beard, wearing drab clothes.

“who are you?” he asks.

“Your creator, Mr. Sykes,” says the man.

He pulls off the beard.

Fang recognizes the face as that of Dr. Anton Sevarius!

“what are you doing down here?”

“Scarlett sent me,” rep[leis the scientist disfguised as a bum. “A team of Navy SEALs have come to recover you.”

“Navy SEALs?”

Some men come in, wearing camouflage, flak jackets, face paint, and helmets.

“Captain Silverblum, Navy SEAL,” says one of them,. Holding a sdubmachinegun. “We’re here to rescue you.”

Sevarius unlocks the cell door with a key that he recovered from the fallen guard. Then Fang follows Sevarius, Silverblum, and the SEALs out of the cell block and through the corridors.

“Wait!” yells Fang.

The cougarman mutate recognizes the room that the SEAL team led him to. It is the Labyrinth Commons. The area is decorated for Thanksgiving, and there are already many people there.

Incl;uding that goon Talon.

“Halt!” yells Captain Silverblum. “Navy SEALs. Stand down! We are just liberating this prionser. I don’t want to fire on my fellow americans. Get down! Get down!”

Fnag notices that ginger detective among the crowd.

Amnd Talon’s sister.

Anyway, he quickly moves along with the SEAL team. In less than a minute he ascends up a ladder. Soon, he finds himself in an alley.

On the surface.

In the daylight.

He follows the SEALs up the side of a building. On the rooftop is a gray Sikorsky CH-53 Sea Stallion heavy lift cargo helicopter. Fang quickly gets inside. Some SEALs enter after him, and finally Captain Silverblum enters.

“Take us up,” says the captain.

“Yes, sir,” replies the pilot.

The Sea Stallion takes off from the roof and fl;ies southeast, reaching the open waters of the Atlantic Ocean within minutes.

“Scarlett really sent you guys?” asks Fang.

“Yes,” replies Silverblum.

Fang glances out at the open ocean. He had never been here before.

About half an hour later, the Sea Stallion heliciopter approaches an aircraft carrier. It soon lands on the deck, and sailors run up to greet the passengers and crew.

“Welcome to the Seahawk,” says one of the sailors, wearing a helmet and a white vest.

Fang notices Mr. Duval.

“Hello, Mr. Sykes,” he says.

“You busted me out?”

“We actually need a little bit of your help. Follow me. Scarlett is waiting.”

And so Fang , Dr. Sevarius, and Captain Silverblum follow Duval as he leads them into the lower decks of the asircraft carrier. They pass by two sailors and an officer in service khakis. The corridors are quite narrow.

Soon, they enter the room. Fang sees a woman with slightly-curled crimson red hair.

“Scarlett!” he yells.

“I need your help,” she says. She shows hima Dell laptop computer.

“Is this a game?” asks the cougarman mutate.

“Just type the password,” replies his lover.

Fang looks at  the screen. There is what he recognizes as a password dialog box.

“What password?”

“It was the name you used to be called, before becoming Fang.

Fang knows. He types on the laptop’s keyboard. Thouygh only bullets appear on the password dialog box, he knows that he typed Freaky Freddy.

He clicks OK.

A window with a file directory appears. Duval looks at the screen.

“I shall take that,” he says, taking the Dell laptop.

Fang immediately give Scarlett a kiss. Their embrace lasts for a minute, their hearts racing.

They had not been this close together in almost a year.

He then looks and sees a little furry figure lying down on a bed.

That can only be his son, the baby boy he and Scarlett made together, that grew in her womb.

He picks him up and turns him around, noting the tiny leathery wings on the baby’s back.

“Daddy’s here,” Fang says softly.


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fang, Scarlett, and their son find refuge. What is next for this family?

**November 29, 1996**

“Wow,” says Scarlett, looking at the crib.

“These Pentagon people sure know how to set us up,” says Fang.

They and their baby boy had them had been relocated to this safehouse near Centreville, Virginia; Mr. Duval had told them it was one of many safehouses that the Pentagon has. They had arrived here the day after Thanksgiving; the place had even been furnished with a crib. This is a quiet place, though of course the two parents both know they can not make this place their home.

But right now, their baby is asleep, and so they place him on the crib. For about a minute, they look at their sleeping son, causing feelings of warmth to rise.

Other feelings arise.

They have waited so long for this moment.

Fang wastes no time removing his shirt and shorts, revealing his nude body, covered in brown fur. His penis is rock hard, veins throbbing, already anticipating entry into Scarlett’s vagina. It gets even harder when Scarlett touches it with her smooth hands.

Scarlett removes her blouse and pants, revealing more and more of her pale skin, inciting Fang’s dick to get even harder. He looks at the cleavage of her breasts. She unhooks her bra and lets it fall, exposing her tits and her nipples, from which their son sucks milk.

She then drops her panties, exposing the red fuzz at the juncture of her legs, and a small part of her cuntal opening.

They embrace each other and kiss, and his mutated manhood gets even harder as it makes contact with her skin.

He runs his hand through her crimson red hair.

Ashe runs her hands through his brown fur.

Their hearts race.

They sweat.

Scarlett leads Fang to the bed and pulls him down.

He lays on top of her; each of them enjoying the other’s body heat.

Fang then kneels. He places his penis right between Scarlett’s large and firm breasts.

He then rubs his cock in between her tits, making sure to enjoy the sensatation of her tittie flesh against his rock hard fuck tool. Scarlett enjoys the sensation of his dick rubbing between her boobs, the source of sustenance for the baby boy they made together.

Their hearts race even more.

It is almost time.

Scarlett spreads her legs, and Fang gazes at her vulva- the gateway to her femininity and her fertility, the most beautiful sight anywhere. The labia are slightly parted, as if inviting him  to enter.

His dick throbs in anticipation as he lowers himself.

The glans of his cock make contact with her lady lips.

For a minute, they savor the sensation.

And then he sticks his penis inside her vagina, slowly going in deeper until his glans bumps into her cervix, the gateway to her womb.

For a few minutes they just lay there, his erect, throbbing dick inside her sopping wet pussy, with the two lovers enjoying the sensation.

He then pulls out slowly.

And pushes back in.

He continues this cycle of pull and thrust.

Their hearts continue to race.

They sweat even more.

Waves of pleasure radiate as his mutated manhood rubs against the sides of her womanhood.

The rhythm is slow for over an hour, as they quench the passionate thirst that they both felt for ten months.

Fang starts to feel the pleasure, passion, and lust focuses in his loins, and he picks up the pace, thrusting in and out faster and faster, getting in one powerful stroke after another .

They both look at his dick disappearing into and reappearing out of her pussy hole.

Her cunt becomes burning hot.

His passion and lust concentrates into his cock.

And then he erupts, shooting his mutated sperm into her vagina and womb.

Scarlett can feel his hot fuck juices coat the inside of her womb, and her whole body shudders in pleasure. Her pussy squeezes his dick like a vice, milking out even more cum.

After half an hour, Fang is spent.

The two lovers rest in the bed, finally have gotten what they had been denied for so long.

And then they hear the crying of the baby.

Fang gets up and puts on his shorts.

He walks to the crib to cradle their furry infant son.

oooooo

**December 1, 1996**

Fang rocks his two-month old baby boy as he holds him in his arms. He gazes upon the baby, covered in brown fur, with cat-like ears, a humanoid face, and two wings on of the back. It still blows his mind that he and Scarlett made such a cute baby together.

A doorbell rings.

“That must be him,” says Scarlett.

She opens the door.

“Hi, Dad,” she says.

“Hi, Scarlett,” replies her dad.

“Is he here?”

“Yes.”

Her father looks at the cougarman mutate and introduces himself. “Scarlett told me what happened to you,” he says. “I never would have imagined such a thing was possible. To be so horribly deformed because of a drug test that you have to wear a costume in front of others. And for your child to inherit the deformity…”

“Uh, yeah,” replies Fang, slightly tugging the hem of his sleeveless white shirt.

“Maybe you will reveal your true self.”

“And here he is,” says Scarlett, holding her son.

Her father takes a lOok at the baby, his grandson. “It would have been easy to give him up to your employer, or maybe the government,” he says.

“I planned to give him up,” replies Scarlett. “There was this woman, Azra. She was a refugee from Bosnia who volunteered to be a surrogate. She could have had been set for life for giving her baby up. She chose to keep her son.”

“Very touching.”

“Yeah, takin’ the easy way out was my life, before that experiment,” says Fang. “Honestly, my life sucked. Now I have the best life, despite my…uh…deformity.”

“I’ll let you know where we move.”

OOOOOOOOOOO

**December 18, 1996**

Fang holds his son up by the arms, as the baby takes step. Scarlett watches in fascination. She had read baby development books, even bought some from a bookstore in Centreville.

So far, developmentally her son is on schedule; the geneticist is interested in the differences in development, as the baby boy has genetic traits sxhared only by other babies born in research centers in Bosnia and Tanzania.

The doorbell rings.

“I’ll see who that is,” Fang says to his son.

He places the baby on the sofa and walks to the front door.

He immediately recognizes the visitor and opens.

“Why hello there, Mr. Sykes,” says Dr. Anton Sevarius, wearing a blue coat and blue trousers. “I hope you and your little family and preparing for the Christmas season.”

“Thanks for the visit, Doc,” replies the cougarman mutate.

“Hi, Dr. Sevarius,” says Scarlett.

“A pleasure to see you are doing well, Dr. Mallory,” replies the geneticist. He walks to the couch where the baby sits. Sevarius notices the brown fur, the little cat-like feet, the humanoid face, and the two little wings attached to the back. “Aren’t babies so cute?” he asks.

“You wanna watch a game, Doc?” asks Fang.

“Actually, I would, like to offer you a temporary job, just for the rest of the year.”

“I’m on, as long as I can get Christmas off.”

“Is it with Gen-U-Tech?” asks Scarlett. “I don’t think Mr. Xanatos is gonna give me my job back, ya know.”

“Oh no, my dear. I’m an on a contract. I am working with my colleague Dr. Phobos.”

“So where is this project, Doc?” asks Fang.

“Back in New York, my friend. Queens, to be exact.”

Fang looks around the safehouse. He did liove a opeacful life with Scarlett and their baby for the past few weeks.

“All right,” says the cougarman mutate. “I’m in.”

Later that night, Fang gets into a black Chevrolet Suburban sport-utility vehicle.

oooooo

**December  19, 1996**

“Welcome to my House of Horrors, Mr. Sykes,” says Dr. Anton Sevarius.

Fang walks inside the tunnels of this undergeround complex that he accessed via an elevator in a building. Sevarius takes him to the lab. Fang notices all sorts of berakers and tubes and other science equipment.

There is also another scientist here, a bespectacled man in a white coat. He looks familiar to the cougarman mutate.

“I am Dr. Phobos,” says the scientist. “Longtime colleague of Anton here. We have met before, in Westchester County.”

“Oh yeah,” replies Fang.

“Allow me to introduce you to the other guests.”

He leads the cougarman mutate down the hall and into a room. He immediately recognizes the room as a cell block, both from his experiences in Rikers Island and in the Labyrinth.

Inside the cells are some children. But Fang takes a closer look and sees some of the children have odd eye colorings and some of the children are growing fangs.

They are test subjects, undergoing early stages of mutation!

“Where did you find these kids?” asks the cougarman mutate.

“Orphans, my dear boy!” exclaims Dr. Sevarius. “If there is one thing plentiful on this sinful Earth, it is orphans.

Fang takes another look. He figures many of these orphans are from Third World countries.

“Who’s payin’ for this?”

“A man named Igor,” says Sevarius. “He gave me ten thousand dollars in cash as seed money, and this base of operations.”

“Igor is a longtime colleague of mine,” says Phobos. “We actually worked together on some projects.”

Fang looks at a girl with brown hair. Her eyeballs have already turned yellow.

She doubles over in pain as her mutations continue.

Oooooooo

**December 24, 1996**

Fang flies in the skies overhead. He figures he must be over New Jersey now. He may not have paid attention in geography class while in school,. But even he knows that Virginia is too far away to fly. He flies closer and closer to a freeway. The vehicles below appear closer and closer.

He finally spots something he can use.

He lands behind the bushes. His head obscured by a motorcycle helmet with a visor, eh flags down a police motorcycle.

“Help!” he yells. “there’s an accident. Someone’s hurt.”

The red and bluer lights flash, and the cop pulls over on the side of Interstate 95. He wears this white helmet with glasses.

“Who’s hurt?” he asks.

“You,” replies the cougarman mutate. Less than a second later, there is an electric blast.

Fang gets on the bike and drives off, the red and blue lights flashing.

It takes a few hours for him to get where he needs to go, both due to the fact that he can maneuver in between the lanes, and the cars pull over to the side due to the flashing red and blue lights and the siren.

He finally crosses the Potomac river over the Woodrow Wilson bridge. He should be close enough thast he can fly the rest of the way. He pulls over, and flies up, abandoning the police motorcycle. Once hundreds of feet in the air, he looks at the surrounding lights.

During his stay near Centreville, he made himself familiar qwith the nighttime bird’s eye view. After a few minutes of flying through the cold night air, he recognizes the house and the pattern of trees.

He finally lands and rings the doorbell. This definitely is the house.

He removes the helmet.

Scarlett answers, holding their infant son.

oooooooo

**December 25, 1996**

Today is Christmas, and billions of people on Earth celebrate with family and close friends.

Scarlett and Fang out of the shower in the safehouse, walking into the bedroom. They both gaze at each other’s nude forms, remembering the nights at their apartment when they would just be together, their bodies fully exposed.

“You will better drenched in my mutate jizz,” says Fang.

“It;’s better than any lotion or makeup,” replies Scarlett. “But we have to clean up for our son.”

They spend the day with their baby boy.

It is the best present they can have.  


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What are Sevarius and Phobos planning for New Year's Eve?

**December 31, 1996**

Fang looks at the orphans in the cell in the basement of the secret research facility in Queens, New York. He had gotten back here from Centreville, Virginia, by “borrowing” a police motorcycle and traveling north on Interstate 95. He had mostly been doing guard duty, making sure to call Scarlett every day.

The orphans’ mutations are much more visible since the beginning of the month. He can see bipedal bugs, turtles, alligators, and armadillos.

“Look at our guests,”  says Dr. Phobos, holding a hand-held mirror, allowing the fresh new mutate children to see their reflections. Many of them recoil in horror. “Looking great there? Did you know that this mirror is made of aluminum? It is almost a miracle metal as silver.”

“I never knew that,” says Fang.

Phobos looks at the children. “For some of you,” he says to the mutates, “this is only the first change. For some of you, you will be chosen and blessed with a new existence, an existence beyond life.”

Not long afterwards, Fang and Phobos meet with Dr. Anton Sevarius inside a conference room. Upstairs, with folding tables and chairs.

On a table against the wall is some sort of shiny metal cylinder device. There is a timer in red light-emitting diodes.

“Allow me to tell you one of our benefactor’s goals here,” says the lead geneticist. “This device here is a bomb. Inside the bomb is a carrier virus that I call CV-1997. It is combined with a mutagenic formula. At around midnight, you, Mr. Sykes, will drop this bomb on Time Square, turning  tens of thousands of people, all diverse, into a wide variety of mutates.”

“Times Square?” asks Fang. “Where Dick Clark will have his Rockin’ New Years Eve?”

“The one and only. The news channels are going to be very interesting over the next few weeks, even more exciting than the latest blockbuster movie. Think of all the celebrities having new looks.”

“Yeah,” says Fang. He again thinks of his son. He had always wondered what kind of life he and Scarlett could provide; they had spoken about moving to the countryside to raise their son, and any other children that they may have, in peace. But maybe with more mutates, thousands of them, his son would have other children to play with.

Oooooooooo

Fang is once again, walking through some underground tunnels, a far cry from flying high up in the sky.

Apparently, an early warning system was set up to detect any intruders that might arrive from below. His furry catlike feet makes noise as the cougarman mutate moves them through the water.

He sees a shadowed figure with wings.

Is it Talon?

Claw?

Goliath or one of his gargoyles?

He quickly zaps the winged figure down.

He takes a closer look and shines a light. Gray skin, black hair, two horns bending towards the back. Fang had never seen this particular gargoyle before.

He sees another figure and discharges  another bolt. He shines the flashlight and sees it is a blond-haired woman in some costume.

Fang grabs these two jokers and heads back to base.

Ooooooooooooo

For decades, Times Square has been packed on New Year’s Eve , and New Year’s Eve 1997 is no different. Thousands of people all dressed in heavy winter coats flood the place, obscuring the streets. Some get coffee from the Times Square McDonalds or one of the nearby boutique coffee shops, including Starbucks and Nightstone. Police officers, some uniformed, some not, keep watch.

Dick Clark hosts the show, as he had since December 31, 1972. Assisting him are co-hosts Donald Faison and Stacey Dash. “Weird Al” Yankovic performs one of his famous parody songs.

The crowd goes wild.

Unknown to Clark, Faison, Dash, Yankovic, and the others here, the world’s best geneticist plans a change in their lives.

ooooooooo

“Some extra specimens,” says Igor, looking at the gargoyle and the human inside the cell. “Well, Dr. Sevarius, they are yours to do as you wish; my boss did not appropriate funds to pay for these extra test subjects. We shall take some of orphans. Have  a Happy New Year.”

Fang looks at Igor. Igor has the appearance of a very ordinary looking man, even more ordinary-looking than that nerd, Owen Burnett. Igor had been accompanied by some rough-looking people.

“Could you be so kind as to assist them?” asks Sevarius.

Fang helps the man move the mutate orphans, placing them in chains and then leading them out of the basement and then into the alley behind the building, where an ambulance awaits.

The ambulance drives off, followed by an unmarked white Dodge van.

Fang re-enters the secret lab. Some of the orphans were left behind; he wonders if Sevarius would keep them or if Igor will come back with another ambulance to pick them up and take it wherever Igor’s employer wants.

“I may need some extra help after we mutate our latest guests,” says the geneticist.  “We won’t be staying here; there’s another facility in the countryside where we will keep them. Of course, I will of course make arrangements for your child and his mother to move with you. I know how much you adore your new family.”

“Thanks, Doc.”

“In the meantime, there is that little task you must take care of.”

Fang grabs the bomb, with its timer counting down to midnight. He places on a gas mask, covering his face to protect him from the CV-1997.

He walks up a stairwell to the roof of the building. The dark sky is above him. In the distance to the north he can see the East River, the Triborough Bridge, and the skyscrapers rising from Manhattan. It is a bit chilly, and the cougarman mutate wears a down-filled vest to supplement his  fur.

He glances at the timer- less than one hour until midnight.

He flies off.

He soon lands on top of the One Times Square building, looking at the ground. He sees the LED counter.

“Doc and his damn drama,” says the cougarman mutate. “Wanting the bomb to explode at exactly midnight.”

He looks down at the stage where Dick Clark is standing, and at the throngs of people in Times Square.

Eventually, the timer reaches sixty seconds.

He flies off, preparing to toss the bomb into the crowd.

“all right, pull over misfit,” he hears.

He turns around and sees some flying figure. Fang fires an electric blast.

“That’s mutate to you, bub,” says the cougarman mutate.

He flies around, assuming that there are others in the air, trying to stop him.

He sees something flying towards him.

It expands and reveals itself to be a net.

Fang flies out of the way.

“Hey, that net’s not mutate safe!” he yells.

Something grabs him.

And is shocked by an electric blast.

He looks at the timer.

Ten seconds.

He removes the strap and releases the bomb.

And flies far, far away.

He looks at the crowd below./

The timer on the big screen in Times Square counts down.

“Happy New Year!” everyone yells below.

Fang turns and sees the gargoyle.

“Ya think yer the first gargoyle I fried!” he yells.

The gargoyle then knocks him down.

Ooooooooo

“I advise you not use your electricity,” says the gargoyle.

“I know,” mutters Fang.

The cougarman mutate is being led through some tunnels. This liquid metal thing called Matrix is wrapped around him, turning his electric blasts back into his mutate body.

The tunnels become familiar to him, as they are now underneath Queens.

They then arrive at the heravy steel door allowing access to the basement.

They reach the cell block.

Some of the mutate orphans are still here. They are all huddled around something.

Or someone.

Fang’s jaw drops.

One of them, an armadillo-like mutate, is dead.

“Uh…how…how many mutatyes does it take ta screw in a light bulb,” he says. “One to hang…”

The gargoyle knocks down Fang, a katana to his throat.

“Yama,” says the mohawked man. “It’s not worth it.”

“Trust me,” says the cougarman mutate. “I’m really not worth it.”

The gargoyle named Yama puts his katana away, still disgusted with Fang.

“What do we do about the kids here?” asks  the blond-haired woman.

“Veruy good question, mate,” says the mohawked man.

“If we leave them here, Sevarius or his buddies might come back for them,” says Fang, standing up. “And ya can’t just call the cops. First of all, Dingo, Canmore, yer wanted felons. Second of all, Doc Sevarius has buddies in our national defense establishment. Contact the cops, and they’ll sure fall into Sevarius’s hands.”

“Bloody figures,” says Dingo.

“We can take them to the hotel,” says the gargoyle named Yama.

“Good idea,” says Robyn Canmore.

“A hotel?” asks Fang. He looks at the two remaining mutate kids. “I’m sure there’ll be room service.”

“And we’re taking this catman with us as well.”

Ooooooo

**January 1, 1997**

Fang can not complain too much.

At least he is not behind bars- technically. The room has one queen-sized bed and a television currently showing a sports show. There had been no news of anyone mutating.

But he is still a prisoner. 

The door opens, and a man in a collasred shirt enters. He had blond hair and a blond beard. A

“I know you,” he says. “I saw you back at the Labyrinth!”

“How would you like redemption?” asks the man.

Ooooooo

Minutes later, Fang, now wearing a sleeveless black shirt and black shorts, walks to the black twin-rotored helicopter and knocks on the door.

“Guess who made the cut,” he says to Yama, Dingo, and Hunter.


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whom does Dr. Phobos work for?

**January 4, 1997**

The lids to the coffins are opened, and two creatures stand up. One of them looks like some sort of insectoid thing. The two upper arms end in five-fingered hands. The face is almost human. Two antennae are on the forehead.

The other is a large turtloid creature. There are differences from turtles- the  two humanoid hands at the end of the arms, the curly brown hair growing from the head.

They arise and see two men. One of them, a man in a white lab coat and spectacles, is a man that they recognize as Dr. Phobos, one of the men who had mutated them in that secret underground lab.

The other is a man they had met much more recently. He is tall, gaunt, and pale, with black hair. The clothes that he wears and his very demeanor radiate aristocracy.

“Welcome to the realm beyond the living,” the aristocratic man says in an unfamiliar language, though the two of them somehow understand it even though they do not remember ever having spoken it before.

“Yes, Master,” they reply.

They follow the two men as they walk along a corridor lined with brick walls and a brick floor.

“I will of course, have to run more tests, just to make sure their conversion was complete,” says Phobos. “They are, after all, the first of their kind. Mutated in life, then you turned them to undeath.”

The reach a great hall. The walls and floor are of stone, and a red carpet covers the floor. As chandelier hangs from the ceiling.

“These are the new guests, my prince?” asks Cordelia.

The two new guests look at Cordelia. Her body is covered in brown fur. She has two arms, two legs, and two leathery wings on her back. She wears a very elegant dress. The ears on her head are oversized, and her nose is upturned.

She looks like a humanoid bat.

“Yes, they are,” answers her prince.

Cordelia looks at the insectoid and the turtloid. “You will love your new existence,” she says. “Look at me. Before, I turned to stone every day. Now I can be awake during the day, as long as I stay indoors and sleep enough hours in my own coffin.”

“I will leave them in your care, my fair Cordelia,” says the aristocratic man.

He and Phobos leave the room, walking along the corridors.

“It is unfortunate the bomb failed, my lord” says the geneticist.

“A plague of undeath, unleashed on midnight on New Year’s Day, 1997,” answers his lord. “But we were dealing with untested science.”

Phobos grins. He had secretly, by sleight of hand, substituted Anton Sevarius’s mutagenic formula with a formula distilled from the master’s blood, which would have turned the crowds in Times Square.

“Sevarius is a brilliant man,” says Phobos. “Much more so than myself. He has pushed boundaries that not even the greatest sorcerers did.”

“We will learn from our failures, a habit I picked up when I was still a mortal human. Any word on the Illuminati Society?”

“I can give you a more detailed report, my master. Granted, they still keep so many things away from me.”

“No doubt they know whom you pledge your real allegiance to, my friend. So many wild cards out there, with their own agendas.”

“Yes, the Society, the Acolytes of the Unseelie, the World Church of the Creator, Al Qaeda.”

“And Demona,” says his master. “The wildest card of all.”

“Too bad we can not turn her.”

“Even if it were possible, she is too strong-willed to be under our charm. I knew this even before my new existence.”

They reach a balcony, seeing a mountainous countryside before them.

Phobos has been such a useful and loyal subject. He had devoted much time to do a scientific analysis on their vampiric nature.

Phobos smiles. He can still recall tasting the blood of those cat-bat-eel-human mutates. With his studies, he had been able to incorporate their nature.

“I shall go for a flight,” he says, putting away with spectacles.

Suddenly, he emits lightning all around him. He yells out a scream and glows, starting to change shape.

Phobos suddenly has a cat-like face. His skin is covered in striped fur. Two leathery wings grow out his back.

He extends claws from his fingers.

He opens his mouth, revealing two sharply-curved fangs.

He flaps his wings and flies off.

Vlad Tepes Dracula watches as Phobos flies off above the Transylvanian countryside.


	35. Chapter 35

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Duval and Peredur discuss the latest developments.

  **April 6, 1997**

“I am glad you brought some Nightstone Coffee with you,” says Peredur fab Ragnal.

“It can definitely rival Starbucks,” says Mr. Duval.

The two men walk along the halls of Castle Carbonek. The walls are made of stone blocks. Standards bearing the Illuminati symbol hang from the walls.

Although Duval had several residences, including a townhouse in the Georgetown neighborhood of Washington, D.C., he had always considered Carbonek his home.

“Perhaps we can put that on the agenda when we meet with the Top Five,” says Peredur.

“Sevarius’s work continues its pace. He is too untrustworthy for us to induct him, but as long as we can manipulate him- and Dr. Phobos- from a distance, we should be fine.”

“There is of course other matters. The Acolytes of the Unseelie have been making moves. There is more unrest due to militants in the Mideast, ever since the bombing of the Khobar Towers last year. And I must remind you on the newest wild card.”

“Which is?”

“Then Redemption Squad,” answers Duval.

Peredur stops and takes a breath. “Yes, the Redemption Squad. He wants redemption for himself.”

“He was the noblest of us.” Memories of long ago surface in Duval’s mind. “What happened so long ago still haunts him.”

“And why he made his break with us. Still, we may be able to utilize him for our ultimate goal, whether he knows it or nor.”

“Oh, he knows it. He knows how we operate. He was equal to me, once.”

“And he is still our friend. Which makes it the more sad that we may have to kill him someday.”

“Not today, I hope.”

“Oh no, not today. But we must be prepared to sacrifice our friend for the greater good.”

“Yes.”

Duval feels a bit sad as to what they may have to do years, even decades down the road.

Sir Lancelot was the best of them, the very inspiration for Duval to become a Knight of the Round Table.


	36. Chapter 36

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Quarrymen hold a rally at Washington square Park. How will they react when a gargoyle decides to speak with them?

**June 9, 1997**

Hundreds of Quarrymen have gathered for a rally in Washington Square Park in the Greenwich Village neighborhood of Manhattan. Many of them are in their trademark midnight blue shirts and pants, while others are in regular clothes. Lou And Chaz are among those Quarrymen providing security. John Castaway himself is there on stage, giving a speech about the threat from gargoyles.

Then suddenly, something swoops in.  Lou and Chaz look and see a gargoyle on stage. Some of the elite Quarrymen, with their armored outfits, approach cautiously.

It is plainly obvious that the gargoyle is female. Her skin is lavender, and she has brown hair growing out iof the top of her head. She wears a white dress over her torso, extending to her knees.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” she says. “I just want to talk.”

“Boo!” someone yells.

“Get off tha stage, ya monster!” yells another.

“Let’s just go smash some stone!” yells a third person.

A hooded Quarryman takes the stage.

“Then let me talk,” he says.

He removes his hood, revealing the face of a young man, in his early twenties, wearing eyeglasses.

“She is not a monster!” he exclaims. “Her name is Angela. I was on a mission to break statues above a church, to deny the gargoyles refuge. My hammer overloaded, and I fell off the roof. She saved me from falling. I would be dead if it were not for Angela. I was a Quarryman. I am a Quarryman. She did that anyway because she and her clan have vowed to protect the island of Manhattan, and all who dwell there, human and gargoyle alike.

“There are police here. If she has committed a crime, then tell them. Otherwise, seek no harm against her.”

News cameras from WVRN, WCBS, WABC, and WNBC focuas in on the youth.

Angela extends her hands out. “We gargoyles have submitted ourselves to the laws of this city, this state, and this nation,” she says. “Without law, our vow to protect means nothing. If you believe I have violated these laws, arrest me and take me to be judged by your courts, as you did with Goliath months ago.”

The police officers, both uniformed and plainclothes, glance at each other, many of them speaking into radios.

They decline to arrest the gargoyle.

Angela and the Quarryman embrace.

John Castaway looks at them. He feels so betrayed.

That gargoyle bitch must pay!

He lifts a hammer, cocking it so it is fully charged.

Electricity crackles.

He raises his hammer, preparing to strike the gargoyle.

The young man gets in the way.

He is shocked by the electricity.

He falls down.

The crowd looks on in horror.

Detective Matt Bluestone runs to the stage, giving the young Quarryman cardio-pulmonary resuscitation.

EMTs from the FDNY arrive to carry the young man to a waiting ambulance, its red lights flashing.

Many of the Quarrymen are shocked at what Castaway had done.

So many of them remove their hoods and turn in their hammers.

Lou and Chaz remove their hoods and walk to Castaway’s aide, George.

They place down their hammers and hoods.

They are done with the Quarrymen.

Cedric removes his hood and looks at George.

“Sorry about your bro,” says the gangbanger-turned-Quarryman. “I’m still with ya, homie. I’m still with the Quarrymen.”


	37. Chapter 37

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fang, Scarlett, and their baby boy settle into their new life.

**June 17, 1997**

For the past three days, the biggest news was the rescue of that passenger train in upstate New York by Goliath and his gargoyle clan. All of the major news networks from ABC to NBC to CBS to Fox to CNN to BBC have been covering this story. John Castaway and so many of his Quarrymen have been arrested. Both state and federal officials have made statement.

Fang had, of course, watched these reports, as most people in the world did. The general public no longer sees gargoyles as an enemy race. True, gargoyles are far from being able from sitting next to humans in buses, trains, and lunch counters, but not being regarded as an enemy to be shot on sight is a huge improvement for them.

He looks at his sleeping son- the brown fur, humanoid face, catlike feet. The baby had grown much the past eight months. Both his son and Scarlett had been relocated to this place, a chateau just outside Paris, France.

He hears the hum of an air conditioner.

He then looks at the mirror.

He sees a face that he had not seen in nearly two years.

He sees the face of Freaky Freddy.

He can hardly believe how this happened.

An investigation into a kidnapping led to this cult called the Acolytes of the Unseelie. One thing led to another, and they encountered this- being. It looked human, but it had powers that Fang and the others in the Redemption Squad could not have imagined.

That thing must have been one of those Fair Folk that he had heard about.

And in an instant, his mutation was reversed.

It had been quite an adjustment to live with the face and body of Freaky Freddy.

He hears the door opens. Turning his human head, he looks and sees Dr. Scarlett Mallory, wearing her white lab coat. The mother of his son still look as beautiful as ever, with her crimson red hair and spring grass green eyes.

She holds a hypodermic spray in her hand.

“I knew something like this would happen when you signed up with these jokers,” she says. “Be lucky you were merely turned human, and not into a giant garden slug.”

The mohawked Aussie man Harry Monmouth, dba Dingo, speaks up.

“Are ya sure ya wanna do this, mate?” he asks.

Fang rtake the hypo spray from Scarlett, places the end against his left bicep, and squeezes the trigger, feeling something punch through his skin.

“Answer’s obvious,” he says.

“Good,” says Scarlett. “Because we’re goin’ to an anime convention in Paris next week. I picked out a costume for ya in yer mutate size; you should finish mutatin’ by then.”

“Then you’re sticking with us,” says Robyn Canmore, dba Hunter.

“there may be no turning back,” says the gargoyle named Yama.

“There was no turning back either way,” says Fang.

“There are tradeoffs in every choice,” says the nanotech colony known as Matrix.

Fang givers the hypo spray to Scarlett, who puts it in a plastic bag. He then kisses her, and she rubs her hands over his bare skin.

“This may be the last time In feel this,” she says.

“At least until I feel like shavin’, or have another encounter with those Fair Folk things,” he replies.

Fang and the others hear his son cry. He walks to the crib and holds him.

“Don’t be scared,” he says softly. “Daddy has to mutate.”

Fang lies on the bed as his mutations begin.


End file.
